by D. L. Roan
“Do I get a choice?” Pryce chuckled when she hooked her thigh over his hip and drew him to her.
“Of course, you do.” Jonah grinned and slipped the first finger past Pryce’s tight ring, turning his laugh into a string of mumbled curses. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the side of Pryce’s neck as he crooked his finger, finding that spot he knew would shove him right to the edge.
Pryce’s body went slack, all the air in his lungs rushing out in a strangled groan.
“You can tell us to stop any time you want.” Jonah traced his tongue over the shell of his ear, grinning because he knew those words would never be uttered.
He caught Chloe’s heavy gaze over Pryce’s shoulder and she mouthed the words I love you before Pryce flexed his hips and her head rolled back on another sigh. “Ahhhhhh.” She arched against Pryce, exposing her rounded belly and thrusting her breasts into the perfect position.
Pryce dipped his head and opened his mouth over one, sucking her nipple through the thin material of her dress. Her face went slack with ecstasy and she fisted her hand in his hair, locking Pryce to her, pressing herself against his mouth in a silent demand for more and Pryce eagerly capitulated. Jonah took advantage of his distraction to add another finger, stretching Pryce a little more.
“Fuck,” Pryce muttered when he added a third, his muscles tightening around his fingers. “I’m losing it.” His words were muffled between Chloe’s breasts, his hips twisting erratically in response to Jonah’s stimulation. Jonah wanted the sweet torture to continue, but knew if he didn’t get inside him soon, he’d lose his chance.
Pryce groaned when he slipped his fingers free. Chloe captured the sound in another distracting kiss as Jonah rolled on a condom and coated his cock with the remaining lube. He spread Pryce’s cheeks apart and positioned the tip of his dick against his adequately stretched star. “You want it slow and steady, or fast and hard?” he asked, digging his fingertips into Pryce’s hip, anchoring himself for whichever he preferred.
“I want it all,” Pryce panted, pushing back against him.
Jonah slid past the tight ring of muscles and filled Pryce to the hilt in one long, slow thrust. “Fuck, yeah!” The strained curse hissed through Jonah’s gritted teeth as Pryce’s tight ass sucked him deep inside.
Pryce stiffened against him and drew in a series of sharp breaths as he adjusted to the penetration. Jonah knew the feeling well, the biting sting, and the immense sense of fullness that slow-rolled into an aching, urgent demand for more.
“Do you feel us?” Chloe pressed her forehead to Pryce’s, taking over with a slow rhythm until Pryce hit the plateau and released a satisfied sigh. “You’re a part of us, Pry. A forever part.”
Pryce gave her an erratic nod, and Jonah slowly pulled out, his teeth cutting into his bottom lip from the mind-blowing sensation of Pryce’s muscles trying to draw him back in.
On his next inward thrust, Pryce snapped his hips forward, too, the three of them sighing in unison. Slow slides in, slow out, the three of them found the perfect harmony that merged them into one. Jonah let the intoxicating rhythm take him under its spell. The world around them, with all its trials and chaos, spun away as they lived inside one another, far away from their worries and regrets.
“I love being inside you when you come,” Pryce breathed against Chloe’s neck when she released a mewling whimper Jonah knew meant she was close. “God…that feels so good.”
Jonah knew exactly the feeling Pryce was experiencing, from that first faint flutter, to the deep, pulsing grip of her hot tight pussy as she came apart around him. The remembered feeling, combined with being balls-deep inside Pryce, brought him to the edge right alongside them.
He closed his eyes, snapping his hips harder, faster, each thrust pushing Pryce deeper inside Chloe. “Fucking. Love. You both.”
In the grip of her release, Chloe cried out, the sound of her pleasure so pure and explosive.
“Oh, fuck yeah. That’s it,” Pryce choked out.
As Pryce followed Chloe over the edge, Jonah’s balls drew up tight between his thighs. His toes curled, his calves and thighs burning as he rocked into Pryce, chasing the electrifying arc that raced along his every nerve until it gripped his cock, igniting his release.
“Umph-ah-fuck-yeah!” He panted, biting into Pryce’s shoulder as he came. The salty tang of his sweat stung Jonah’s lips as he held himself deep inside Pryce, his cock pulsing, until he was drained of every ounce of strength and collapsed back onto the blanket. “Holy Christ!”
A brisk gust blew across the field, quenching the fire smoldering just beneath his sweat-soaked skin as he removed the condom and collapsed again. Beneath the clear blue sky, the three of them laid sprawled on the blanket, a tangle of arms and legs, speechless, panting, and replete until Chloe’s bubbly laugh broke through their euphoric stupor.
“Holy hotcakes,” Chloe said with an equally exhausted sigh.
Jonah laughed, still trying to catch his breath. “Where did you come up with that?”
“Hmm,” Chloe hummed with satisfaction. “It’s a curse-word-free way of saying that was fucking amazing,” she explained. “But we can’t talk like that around the baby, so we need to start watching what we say now. Especially you two.” She laughed.
“I don’t curse,” Pryce protested with a breathless chuckle. “Much.”
Still as weak as a newborn colt, Jonah propped up onto his forearm and looked over Pryce’s shoulder at Chloe. He was going to argue, but the fine sheen of sweat on her glowing caramel-colored skin glistening in the sun like warm diamonds, and the completely satisfied and happy expression on her face, stole the words right off his tongue.
Chloe caught him looking and rolled to her side, propping her head on the heel of her hand. “What’s that look for?”
Jonah grinned and shook his head. “You’re beautiful, is all.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m fat.”
“You’re not fat. You’re pregnant and beautiful,” Pryce said, reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “Jonah’s right. You should listen to him.”
“And so should you,” she countered, pressing her forehead to Pryce’s. “Do you know how much we love you?” she asked him, peppering his kiss-swollen lips with lazy kisses.
Pryce nodded woodenly, his next words gripping Jonah’s heart like a vise. “Even after we were married, I never believed I could deserve you,” he said, then tipped his head back to look at Jonah. “Either of you.” The insecurity and doubt that had clouded his eyes from the first day Jonah’d met him, dissipated like an early morning fog, burned away by the rising sun’s warm rays. “I don’t think I ever allowed myself to believe this was real, until now.”
Triumph exploded in Jonah’s chest, the ache bubbling up into a knot that lodged in his throat. He swallowed it down, cradling Pryce against him, melding them together as he reached over and gathered Chloe closer, too. He found Pryce’s hand and laced their fingers together, resting them overtop Chloe’s, on her belly. “We’re your family now, Mr. McLendon.”
Pryce’s lips turned up into a shy grin. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Well, you better get used to it,” Chloe warned as she snuggled into them.
“Yes, ma’am.” Pryce chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Mrs. McLendon.”
“Pryce McLendon,” Jonah said, resting his chin on Pryce’s shoulder. “I like it.”
“Me, too,” Chloe said.
Jonah caught her gazing up at him, and they shared a victorious wink.
Pryce Fucking McLendon. Hell-yeah!
Chapter Ten
The midmorning sun beamed through the window, cutting a Texas-sized swath of fiery light through the office Clay shared with his dad and oldest brother, Beau. A constant tap-tap-tap of his pen against his desk was the only sound as Clay stared sightlessly at the screen in front of him.
“Christ.” He tossed the battered instrument onto the desk and che
cked his watch again, blowing out a frustrated sigh at how damn slow the thing was moving.
“That’s it.” Across the room, Beau shoved his chair back from his desk and paced to the gun rack mounted on the wall by the door. “Get your hat and follow me,” he commanded after retrieving two rifles and a box of target ammo.
“No thanks.” Clay waved him on and picked up the pen again, turning back to his laptop. He needed to get his bid in for the Lubbock Stockyard automation contract, but he’d been so anxious about the arrival of Dani’s dads in—he checked his watch again—T-minus two hours and eleven minutes, he’d be damned if he even could recall the name of the software he’d suggested to the stockyard manager.
Beau knotted his meaty fist into the back of his shirt and yanked him from his seat. “C’mon, little brother. You ain’t fit for workin’.” Clay twisted out of his grip, but Beau slipped between him and his desk and slapped his laptop shut. “Any proposal you put together today will be shit, and you know it. I’m doin’ you a favor,” he insisted as he hip-checked him toward the door. “Squeezing off a few hundred rounds will take the edge off.”
Clay stumbled ahead of his brother, glancing back at his laptop one last time before Beau gave him a shove down the hallway toward the front door. “They’ll be here in a couple hours,” he protested.
“Trust me,” Beau said with a wicked chuckle, “I’ll have you back in plenty of time. I wouldn’t miss seeing that three-to-one shit show for the world.”
Clay scowled over his shoulder.
“Hey, don’t look at me like this is my fault.” Beau snickered as he passed Clay one of the rifles. “I’m not the one who popped the cherry of the only virgin on the planet with not one, but three dads.”
Clay’s jaw ticked as he took the rifle and climbed into the passenger seat of Beau’s Jeep. He should have never told Beau about his suspicions of Dani’s virginal status before they’d started dating. He’d been right, of course, but he’d never confirmed or denied it to Beau despite how many times his crass brother had attempted to weasel the truth from him.
He stared out the passenger window as they pulled onto the trail leading to the tree grove that had served as their target range since their Pop’s pop taught him how to shoot. Beau was right about Dani’s dads, though. What had he been thinking?
Inviting them to Sterling Eagle without Dani as a buffer was tantamount to suicide, but he had to do something. Family was everything to her. He knew firsthand how difficult it would be for her to leave the only home she’d ever known. Not having her fathers’ support and approval would only make it worse. While he may not need their approval, as nice as it would be to have, Dani did, and he’d do whatever it took to give that to her. He needed to find a way to make them understand, to make them see how much he loved her.
Beau punched him in the arm and he flinched. “You comin’, or are you gonna sit in the Jeep all day?”
Distracted by his impending demise, Clay hadn’t noticed they’d arrived at the range. Beau was already out of the Jeep and headed to the berm to hang the targets as Clay checked his watch again.
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbled to himself as he got out of the car, slammed the door, and jogged to catch up to his brother. If his aim was as shaky as his resolve, he’d be lucky if he could hit the broad side of a barn. Fucked-up and firearms weren’t a good mix.
Two hours later, Clay had proven himself right. “Son of a bitch!” He rattled off a longer string of curses and flipped down the passenger sun visor to inspect the gash above his right eyebrow. Bright red blood gushed from the deep cut. “Fucking scope bite,” he muttered as he wiped the blood away with the T-shirt he’d pressed against the wound, only to have more well up in its place. He hadn’t been kicked by a recoil since he was twelve, for crying out loud.
“Dude.” Beau chuckled as he hopped into the driver’s seat. “I told you that stock is too short for you to be cozying up to the scope like that.”
“You picked the damn rifle,” Clay gritted out, hissing as he pressed the shirt back to the open wound.
“And that should be lesson number two,” Beau countered as he started the Jeep and headed toward home. “Know your hardware.”
Clay ignored his brother and checked his watch. Shit. “Shut that gaping hole in your face and hurry the hell up!” He winced as the Jeep bounced over the dirt trail.
“You sure are in a hurry to meet your maker.” Beau chuckled. “Dani must be one hell of a—
“I swear to God, if you say another word…”
Beau’s cackling laugh drowned out the rest of his growled threat as they rounded the last curve in the road and Pop’s house came into view, an extra pickup truck parked between his and Pop’s.
Clay’s heartbeat galloped to life. “They’re here.”
Dry desert dust plumed around the vehicle when Beau hit the brakes and slid to a stop in the front yard. “Well, it’s been nice knowin’ ya, little brother.” Beau gave his shoulder a brotherly squeeze.
Clay shrugged him off and jumped out, shouldering the offending rifle as he bounded up onto the porch, his blood-soaked T-shirt pressed to his brow. He was reaching for the handle on the screen door when his toe caught the edge of something, his urgent momentum propelling him head first through the screen, into the foyer where he landed in a heap on the terracotta floor.
“Son of a bitch!”
Flopping around like a lassoed calf, he struggled to get to his feet, but didn’t quite make it before Pops and Dani’s dads came around the corner from the kitchen.
“What the hell, son?” Pops drawled as he rushed to help him up. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of sober this mornin’?”
Beau’s roaring laughter could be heard from clear across the front yard as Clay clasped his dad’s hand and dragged himself from under the twisted aluminum doorframe that had ripped from its hinges and wrapped itself around him.
“No, sir,” he muttered once free from the mangled mess, looking over his shoulder to see what had tripped him, finding nothing out of place. “Must be a loose board in the porch.”
Red-faced and still cackling, his miscreant brother stepped up onto the porch, making a show of stomping on the boards a few times. “Nope.” Beau’s lips quivering with his effort to hold back his laugh. “Not a loose board in the lot.”
Clay narrowed his eyes. Keep it up, motherfucker.
“Uh…” Standing behind Pops, one of Dani’s dads cleared his throat. “I don’t want to break up the party here,” Matt McLendon said with a restrained snicker as he stepped into sight, “but you’re bleedin’ pretty bad there.”
Dammit! He’d all but forgotten. “Yeah.” Embarrassed, he swiped at the cut above his brow, only to come away with a bloody hand. “We were out shootin’ and the scope bit me on the recoil.”
“Ouch.” Grey McLendon stooped to pick up the rifle. “Been there a time or two myself,” he said as he handed the gun back to Clay.
Clay gave him a wary nod as he set the rifle in the corner behind the door.
“Well, so much for first impressions,” Beau said, the bastard still laughing as he offered his hand to Grey. “Beau Sterling. Twinkle Toes’ big brother.”
Grey chuckled as he clasped Beau’s hand. “Grey McLendon,” he offered, then introduced Dani’s other two dads. “My brothers, Matt and Mason.”
“Welcome to Sterling Eagle.” Beau shook each of their hands as Clay stood in the corner like a knot on a log. “Looks like you’ve already met our Pops, Virgil.”
“Sure did,” Matt said with his usual carefree grin. “We’re all settled in, and he was about to pour us a whiskey.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Clay offered. “And for being so late getting back.”
“Our flight landed early,” Grey dismissed his concern. To Clay’s surprise, Grey sidestepped Beau and clamped a hand on Clay’s shoulder, his brows dipping into a scowl as he studied the cut. “Looks like that needs a few stitches, son.”
“
I told him,” Beau said, then made a beeline into the kitchen.
Clay swiped at his brow again, but any reply he might have had was stuck like a clump of chalk in his throat. Son? The eldest of Dani’s dads had been more accepting than he’d expected, but calling him son? Maybe that scope hit him a little harder than he’d thought.
“Just rub some dirt on it and it’ll be fine,” Pops suggested with a dismissive wave before he wrangled the remnants of the mangled screen door out onto the front porch.
Grey met Clay’s gaze with a knowing grin. “Sounds like he and our dads are cut from the same cloth,” he said as he examined the cut closer. “Dirt fixes everything.”
Clay tried to laugh, but the sound that came out was like more of a choked grunt as the sting bloomed back to life.
Beau returned with some ice wrapped in a clean dishrag and pressed it to the cut. Mason smirked, and for a split second, Clay thought he saw a glimmer of satisfaction in the man’s eyes before he blinked it away. Doubt twisted his gut into an agonizing knot. He may have made some headway with Grey and Matt in recent weeks, but he seemed to be going backward with Mason. He’d been certain Mason would come around once he saw how dedicated he was to Dani’s happiness, but now he wasn’t so sure anything would win him over.
“You got any liquid stitch?” Matt asked, stepping up to take a closer look.
Grey’s mouth twisted with doubt. “I’m pretty sure this is going to need a stitch or two,” he said, jerking his head toward his brothers. “Mason can sew it up for you if you’ve got a stitch kit,” he suggested.
Mason arched a brow, the corner of his lips quirking up into a menacing grin. “I’d be glad to,” he said, the look in his eyes no less than a veiled threat.
Beau must have seen it, too, jumping in to uncharacteristically offer his help. “I have one in my field kit back at my cabin,” he said, motioning for Clay to follow him to the front door. “I’ll take care of it.”
The knot in Clay’s stomach twisted tighter as he shuffled onto the porch. His survivalist brother may have the equipment, but he’d seen Beau’s handy work with a needle and thread. He’d be better off calling the ranch’s bovine vet. His gut warned him that either option was better than letting Mason near him with any sharp objects.
