Page 34 of Claimed By the Cowboys

I chuckle. “She still hiding candy in her bra?”

“Every single day.” Brandy’s eyes soften. “What about you? You look like you worked hard today.”

“We moved cattle most of the morning, then spent the afternoon fixing fence where the storm took it down last week. The temporary repair was close to giving out.” I roll my shoulder, still tense with the strain. “One of the yearlings gave us hell. Thought he was smarter than both Jensen and me.”

She smiles at that. “The ranch looks like it’s coming along nicely.”

“Yeah. We still have a lot to do, but we’re making progress. It’s starting to feel half like home.” I glance around the kitchen, then back at her. “Needs a woman’s touch, though.”

The words slip out, but I can’t regret them. It’s the damned truth, and I want her to know it. Brandy’s gaze drops to her glass for a second, but when she looks up again, her gaze seems soft and hopeful.

“How are the kids?”

She smiles softly. “They’re good. They seem to grow every day and the stuff they come out with… I need to write it down, or I’ll forget it.”

“Yeah. My sister’s kids are the same. We don’t see each other regularly… she moved around three hours away… but when we do, the kids seem to have changed completely.”

“We’re changing too,” Brandy says wistfully. “Time marches on.”

“It does. But that’s okay. We’re still young.”

“Men don’t have to worry so much. You can have kids when you’re seventy.”

“Yeah, only weird perverts and celebrities who think they’re going to live forever do that shit,” I say, screwing up my nose. “I want to be able to play ball with my kids, not need a walker to get from the sofa to the bathroom.”

She snorts. “I can’t imagine you ever needing a walker. You’re going to be one of those muscly old dudes with wrinkly six packs.”

I pat my hard stomach. “A man can dream.”

“So can a woman,” she laughs, then blushes, realizing she’s talking about long into the future.

“I’d keep myself in shape for you, Brandy. Don’t you worry about that.”

She doesn’t point out that this is a casual thing as I expect, and I don’t know how to take that. Is it a good sign, or is she worried that mentioning it now will spoil the atmosphere?

It feels totally natural to share my space with her, and I hope she feels the same way.

The peace is disrupted when the front door bangs open.

Jensen bursts in, still covered in dust from seeing to the horses, but with wet hair from a quick freshen up at the utility sink in the barn. The second he sees Brandy, his face lights up with pure hunger. He doesn’t ask questions or wait to find out why Brandy’s here. He crosses the kitchen in three long strides, pulls her up from the chair, and buries his face in her throat, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groans against her skin. “You kept us waiting too long.”

Brandy lets out a soft, surprised laugh that turns into a shiver as Jensen nips at her neck like a playful puppy.

I step closer, sliding my hand down her back. “We’re filthy,” I murmur. “Been working all day. Come upstairs with us. Let us get clean… and get you dirty again.”

“Okay,” she whispers, her eyes already darkening.

We lead her upstairs to the big bathroom off the main bedroom. The moment the door closes, clothes start coming off. Jensen strips his shirt over his head. I tug off my socks. Brandy watches us, then reaches for the hem of her scrubs. Piece by piece, everything hits the floor until we’re all bare.

I drink in her smooth dark skin and the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs that always smells of jasmine. I linger over her thick thighs and strong calves and the fullness of her breasts. When I meet her eyes, they’re dark with wide blown pupils and so pretty, my heart turns over in my chest. I turn on the shower and wait as the hot water fills the room with steam, staring as Brandy’s dark nipples tighten with the cold. We pull her under the spray with us, and she tips her face to the water, closing her eyes like she’s staring at the heavens and praying. It’s hard to tear my eyes away from her—the sweet curve of her nose, and water sparkling in her eyelashes. Lower, her breasts are pure temptation and her nipples point upward, waiting to be sucked. I cup her ass and give it a gentle squeeze.

She grabs the soap and lathers her hands, then reaches for both of us at once. Her soapy palms wrap around my cock and Jensen’s at the same time, and she strokes us slowly, her eyes flicking between us like she can’t decide who to focus on. The slick heat of her hands combined with the hot water has me groaning low in my throat.

“Brandy,” Jensen hisses, hips jerking into her tight, slick grip. “You’re gonna kill us, sweetheart.”

I’m close already, thrusting into her fist, but I catch her wrist gently. “Not yet. We want to take care of you first.”