I don’t kiss her on the lips next—not wanting to pull her away from Lawson. I want toaddto it. To be the counterpoint. The heat beneath the calm. So my mouth finds the curve of her neck just beneath her ear.
Her skin is warm and so fucking soft. She gasps when my lips touch her, the sound vibrating straight through me.
“Beau…” she whispers again against Lawson’s kiss, and this time her hand reaches back blindly, finding my forearm, fingers gripping me tightly.
I kiss a slow line along her throat, lingering where her pulse jumps beneath my mouth. I feel it there, fast and frantic, while Lawson keeps her mouth occupied.
Her hand lifts from my arm, trembling just slightly now, and her fingers brush along the stubble covering my jaw. Lawson’s hand slides into her hair, angling her mouth just enough that I hear the soft sound she makes when he deepens the kiss.
I press my forehead briefly to her shoulder, breathing her in while I steady myself.
Her fingers tighten on both of us before I lift my head just enough to murmur against her skin. “You still with us?”
She nods, breathless. “Yes.”
Lawson nods at me over her shoulder, both of us more than ready for what comes next.
Chapter forty-two
Abigail
I’mstandingbetweenthem.
And not in a way I ever have before.
Lawson’s in front of me with Beau at my back, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his chest every time I breathe in. It should feel overwhelming. It should make me freeze… the notion of being in between two men who overpower my senses in the way that they do.
But instead, my body exhales.
Lawson’s hands are threaded in my hair, thumbs slow and grounding, always reminding me that I’m here and that I’m safe. His mouth finds mine again, and a small moan slips past my lips as his tongue begs for entrance. He kisses me like he always does, like he’s anchoring himself to me as much as I am to him.
Then Beau shifts behind me.
Enough that his mouth brushes the curve of my neck. His breath skims my skin before his lips follow, and the contrast between them—Lawson’s certainty, Beau’s restraint—sends a shiver straight through me.
Lawson smiles against my mouth as my body shakes.
My hands lift on their own accord, unsure where to go with all of this feeling, and I realize I don’t want to choose. I don’t want to narrow it down. I want—
I turn.
Lawson lets go without hesitation, because of course he does, and suddenly I’m facing Beau. And when I look at him, I see his eyes are darker than usual, heat simmering just beneath the surface, desperate for more of me.
“You’re…” The word tumbles out of me before I can think better of it. I laugh, breathless and honest and a little stunned by my sudden boldness. “You’re so unfairly hot, it honestly should be illegal.”
His mouth curves slowly, and I squeeze my thighs together as I watch those dimples deepen. “Yeah?” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I confirm, hands at the hem of his shirt. My fingers shake a little as I push it up, but Beau doesn’t rush me. He lifts his arms, lets me take my time, lets me see him. The second the fabric clears his shoulders, and I’m no longer able to reach, he works his shirt the rest of the way off, and my palms slide over warm skin and solid muscle.
“Wow,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
“Careful, you’re going to make his head bigger than it already is,” Lawson murmurs from behind me before his mouth finds my neck. His lips move more slowly now, and his hands trace up my sides, roaming over every curve.
Beau’s hands come to my waist, and when he leans down and kisses me—really kisses me this time—with Lawson still at my throat, I realize that this doesn’t feel wrong or reckless or rushed. It feels like I was always meant to be here, and now.
With them.
Beau grips the hem of my wool sweater. “Can I take this off? I want to see you.”
