Page 37 of Claimed By the Cowboys

I’m still reeling when Jensen carries me downstairs. My body is boneless, utterly used and utterly cherished. The feeling of them inside me at once, stretching me, filling me, and owning me, is something I don’t think I’ll ever recover from. I was so full I could barely breathe, and held so tightly between them, and yet I’ve never felt more free.

Jensen carries me naked into the kitchen with my legs wrapped around his waist, while Bo follows close behind. The cool night air from the open window caresses my heated skin, making me shiver. Bo immediately grabs a shirt from the back of a chair and drapes it over my shoulders.

They set me on a stool at the big oak table and start cooking like it’s the most natural thing in the world for two naked, gorgeous cowboys to make me pancakes at midnight.

I watch them move around the kitchen, their half-hard cocks bobbing with every step, and I can’t stop laughing. It’s soft and breathless and is foreign in my chest.

“Not worried about scalding your sausages tonight,” I laugh.

“Nah,” Jensen says. “We know our way around this kitchen.”

“You two look ridiculous,” I laugh, then bite my lip as Jensen flips a pancake with a dramatic flourish. His tight glutes flex with the exertion, and I drool a little at more than the sweet scent filling the room.

“Ridiculously sexy, you mean,” he shoots back, grinning over his shoulder. “Admit it. You’ve never seen a better breakfast show.”

Bo smirks, laying strips of bacon in the pan. “You need to eat, sweetheart. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Oh yeah? What for?”

They both fix me with their beautiful blue-gray eyes. “For round two,” they say in unison.

Round two? I barely survived round one. I clench my legs together, relishing the sore ache and sensitivity they’ve left behind.

“I think it might take more than pancakes to get me ready for that.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Brandy.” Jensen approaches, tipping my chin with his index finger and leaning down. My breath catches at his handsomeness and the strength and vitality that radiates from him. “You, my darlin’ are capable of reaching for the stars.”

“You think?” For so long I’ve barely been reaching for what’s directly in front of me.

“I don’t think, I know. You can do whatever you put your mind to.”

“As long as it’s more fucking,” I snort, needing to lighten the moment rather than acknowledge the lump of emotion that’s wedged just above my voice box.

“Whatever you put your mind to,” he reiterates.

Whatever. I don’t remember the last time I considered my potential. I don’t have the luxury of taking time out to find myself. I’m on the path I set up for myself when I was practically a kid with no idea about life, following in my mama’s footsteps, and just before I had a chance to weigh up my choices, daddy was sick and Jasmine was gone, and any option I had to change course was gone.

“Listen to my brother,” Bo says, assembling a plate. “He might come across as a dumb ass, but he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Gee, thanks, bro.” Jensen shakes head and heads back to deal with the bacon.

“What about you? Is this what you always dreamed of putting your mind to?”

“I wanted to be a famous country singer,” Bo says with a shrug. “But my singing is kind of off key, and I can’t write songs for shit.”

“But you play the guitar like a pro.” Jensen lifts strips of crispy bacon onto a napkin to soak off the excess fat.”

“What about you, Jensen?”

“I like the outdoors. Couldn’t be cooped up inside at a desk. Can’t sit still for shit.”

“And he has a way with animals,” Bo says.

I smile, enjoying how their teasing can turn to genuine kindness toward each other.

“What about you, Brandy?”

Bo approaches with a towering stack of fluffy pancakes, served with crispy bacon, fresh blueberries, and rivers of maple syrup.