“I…” She was going to argue, but she really didn’t have a case, so she smiled. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
“Good. That’s settled. Now try the food. And if you don’t like it, lie to spare my feelings.” Wolfe grinned, that sexy smirk that heated up her insides.
God, the man really was devilishly handsome in that bad-boy sort of way. And Rhys … he was quite possibly the opposite. Devastatingly handsome, but almost like … well, like a good boy.
Hmm.
She liked the idea of having a bad boy and a good boy.
Then again, she thought about the things they’d done to her earlier and there wasn’t anything “good” about them. They were both dirty in the best possible way.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Rhys asked, taking a sip of his tea.
Amy blushed, the heat rising from her neck to her face. “Nothing.”
Rhys smiled knowingly. “Thinkin’ about more orgasms?”
His bluntness made her suck in a sharp breath when a lightning bolt of desire crashed into her.
Amy focused on her food, trying her best not to look at them. They’d know exactly where her thoughts had wandered to if she did.
Oh, who was she kidding?
They already knew if their chuckles were anything to go by.
After dinner, Amy called Reagan at the bar.
“Hey.” There was a hint of concern in Reagan’s tone. “How’re you doin’?”
“I’m … better.”
“Good. That’s real good.”
“I wanted to call and let you know that I won’t be home tonight. I’m … uh … staying with a friend.”
Reagan laughed, a hearty sound that had Amy blushing again. “Wolfe Caine is a friend?”
“You know what I mean,” Amy said, smiling despite her embarrassment.
“I’ve got a question for you…”
“Sure.”
“Is my brother there?”
Amy could hear Rhys and Wolfe talking in the living room. “He … uh … I … yeah. Yes. He’s here.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Amy wasn’t sure if she should defend herself or Rhys or even Wolfe. And if she needed to, she didn’t have the first clue what she would say.
Reagan laughed again. “Don’t worry, girl. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“What? No. It’s…” Amy sighed.
“He’s my brother, remember? I know all about what he’s into. And hey, it’s none of my business. Are you happy?”
“Yes,” she blurted, not even having to think about it.
“Then that’s all that matters. As long as everyone’s on the same page, you’re not hurtin’ nobody.”
Amy had no idea if she was supposed to reply to that, so she didn’t. “Since I won’t be home, you’re more than welcome to sleep in my bed if you want. You know, if the futon’s not comfortable.”
“The futon’s great, but thanks for the offer.”
“Sure. And I’ll … uh … see you tomorrow night.”
“Yep. See you then. Be safe. And Amy?”
“Hmm?”
“If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
Reagan probably didn’t realize just how much that meant to her. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The phone disconnected and Amy stared at it for a minute, wondering what she’d done. Rhys had mentioned that he was bisexual but that he didn’t broadcast it. Then there was the tension between their families. What if Reagan said something? What if word got out?
Amy fell back on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“Everything cool in here?”
Amy opened one eye and peeked over at the door. Rhys was leaning against it, his eyes on her.
“Yes.” She sighed again. “No. I don’t know.”
“What’s up?”
Turning her head, Amy looked at him. “I talked to Reagan. I told her I wouldn’t be home, that I was staying with a friend. She guessed about Wolfe and I didn’t deny it. Then she asked if you were here and…” Amy covered her face with her hand. “What have I done?”
Rhys joined her on the bed, sitting down with his knee bent, foot tucked beneath his opposite thigh. “It’s fine. My sister doesn’t share my personal business.”
Amy uncovered her face. “What about the Caines and the Trevinos? If they’re rivals, how is this”—she waved toward the other room where Wolfe was—“supposed to work?”
“Well, it’s not like it’s the Wild West. There won’t be a shootout at high noon.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the mental image that drew.
“And besides, if it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. That’s the way the world works.”
“Are you the philosophical kind?” she asked, trying to put some accusation in her tone.
“Not on your life, but that’s one thing I know for certain.” He tapped her nose. “Now, for the reason I came in here.”
“You didn’t come to sneak a peek under my shirt, did you?” Amy laughed when he tickled her thigh.
“No and yes. No, that isn’t the reason I came in here initially. But then I saw you on the bed and…” He reached for the hem, but Amy grabbed his hand, stopping him.
Rhys laughed. “Wolfe wants to know if you wanna go out to the range for a bit. The sun’s goin’ down, so it’s not quite as hot. Maybe you can get in some practice.”
Amy bounced up off the bed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
With a little squeal, she ran to the bathroom to put on her own clothes.
The three of them had spent two hours on the range and the time had flown by.
Amy had been open to learning how to shoot more than just a shotgun, eager even, and they’d been more than happy to arm her and show her how to protect herself. Had she known long ago…
No, Rhys didn’t even want to think about that. He couldn’t change history, no matter how much he wanted to.
Wolfe had picked up a compact Ruger at a pawn shop that he told her would be perfect for her. It was, and once Amy understood how the sight worked, the woman was a damn good shot. Rhys had been impressed.
Now that they were back at Wolfe’s, Rhys was showing her how to clean her gun while Wolfe was in the shower.
“So, can I carry the gun with me?” Amy asked, looking up at Rhys.
“You’ll have to take the state-required course to carry open or concealed, but yeah. If you get the license, you can carry it with you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need more practice.”
She openly studied the gun lying on the table, her finger trailing over it. Rhys liked that she wasn’t afraid of it, but he definitely wanted her to get more comfortable. Rhys had grown up shooting, and he was sure Wolfe had, too. That was how their families were. Shotguns, rifles, handguns. They’d been a part of Rhys’s life for as far back as he could remember. Hell, he’d gone on his first hunting trip with his dad and grandfather when he was four.
Wolfe came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of basketball shorts riding low on his narrow hips, no shirt, and bare feet. He was rubbing a towel over his hair as he came into the kitchen. He looked between them, both of them openly staring.
“What’s up?”
Rhys glanced down at Amy and they smiled at each other. Clearly their brains were on the same wavelength.
“What?” Wolfe asked again, laying the towel over the back of a chair. “What did I miss?”
“It should be a crime for you to walk around without a shirt on,” Amy said, her tone sweet yet mischievous.
“Is that right?”
She giggled. “Luckily for us both, we’ve got the sheriff here with us.”
Wolfe and Rhys both laughed.
“You spend a lot of time comin’ up with that one?” Wolfe teased.
“Nope,” she answered easily. “I’m just witty like that.”
“And sassy,” Rhys noted. “I like it.”
Amy seemed to like that he’d
called her that. He assumed she hadn’t been teased much over the years. With the devastation of losing her parents, then her aunt and uncle, and having to live with a monster, she probably hadn’t laughed much, either.
“But sassy might require some punishment,” Wolfe noted.
The instant the word was off Wolfe’s tongue, Rhys was sure he realized what he’d said. However, he didn’t take it back, didn’t stumble over it the way Rhys probably would have.
As for how Amy took it…
Rhys watched her, wondering whether or not she understood for most people, it wasn’t referring to the pain that had been inflicted upon her. After all she’d been through…
“Hmm,” she said, a playful gleam in her eye. “What did you have in mind?”
Wolfe looked at Rhys, then back at Amy. “I was thinkin’ more orgasms.”
“Yep. Me, too. I think that’s the perfect punishment,” Rhys added.
“Well…” Amy got to her feet, stretched leisurely, her T-shirt baring her stomach. She looked as though she was gearing up to go to bed. Of course, then she grinned. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Before she could get two steps, Wolfe had tossed her over his shoulder and was carrying her to the bedroom. She giggled, her hands gripping his shorts, tugging them down and baring Wolfe’s ass as the big man made the distance to the bedroom disappear in as few steps as possible.
Rhys was right behind them.
Wolfe put her on her feet, tugged up his shorts, then took a step back, his heated eyes trailing over her. “Shirt has to go,” Wolfe instructed.
Amy seemed to accept his instruction as a dare, reaching down and deftly removing her T-shirt.
Rhys was content to watch the action, admire the woman standing before them in a pair of jeans and a plain white bra.
“Now the jeans,” Wolfe added.
She was a little more seductive as she watched the two of them, slowly unbuttoning the jeans, then easing the zipper down. She shimmied them over her hips before letting them fall to the floor.
Good God, the woman was so fucking hot. He didn’t think she even realized how hot. Her sweet innocence only added to the smoldering look in her eye.
“So damn hot,” Rhys groaned.
“Might as well lose the bra and panties while you’re at it,” Wolfe rasped. “It’ll save us time later.”
“I will if you lose the shorts,” she countered, hands on her hips.
In the blink of an eye, Wolfe had his shorts off and was standing buck-ass naked, his cock bobbing excitedly. Rhys couldn’t help but admire him, too. Lean and ripped, Wolfe Caine made Rhys’s mouth water.
“Oh, my God,” Amy said under her breath, her eyes focused on Wolfe’s very hard, very imposing cock.
Yep. That was what Rhys had thought the first time, too.
“Keep lookin’ at him like that and he’s gonna get too excited,” Wolfe said, that warning growl accompanying his words as he gripped his cock in one big hand, stroking slowly.
Amy turned to him. “Now you, Sheriff.” She smirked. “I think Wolfe would like to help you out.”
Rhys was going to have to do some work to catch up with them since he still had his damn boots on.
“You first,” Wolfe told her. “Then I’ll strip him while you watch.”
As though that was one hell of a prize, Amy removed the bra and panties, tossing them to the side of the bed.
Rhys focused on breathing when Wolfe moved in behind him, his arms wrapping around Rhys’s waist as he worked on his belt buckle. Knowing this would take a while, Rhys helped them along by toeing off his boots.
“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, leaning into Wolfe when the man pulled his cock from his boxers, his rough grip sending shockwaves through his insides.
Before he could process what was happening, Amy was in front of him.
On her knees.
And holy fucking hell…
It was a damn good thing Wolfe was behind him. Otherwise, Rhys would’ve been on the floor.
She looked so damn sweet, so innocent kneeling before him, her hands sliding up his jean-clad thighs. Rather than go for his dick, she reached for the waistband and tugged the denim down.
Rhys didn’t move a muscle, his attention on remembering how to breathe when she did slide her soft hand over his erection. Between her soft touch and Wolfe’s rough, callused fingers, Rhys was sucking in air, his eyes fixated on their hands.
“Taste him,” Wolfe instructed from over Rhys’s shoulder, sliding the head of Rhys’s dick over Amy’s bottom lip.
“Oh, hell,” Rhys hissed.
Wolfe pressed closer to Rhys’s back, his dick grinding against Rhys’s ass. As if that wasn’t distracting enough, Amy took the head of Rhys’s cock in her luscious mouth. He hissed, unable to look away, unable to breathe.
She was watching him as she hesitantly sucked, then licked the swollen head before taking him between her lips once again.
“Don’t stop doin’ that,” he said, the words coming out strained. “Feels so good, baby.”
That seemed to encourage her, because she repeated the motions over and over again, driving him absolutely crazy.
While Amy gave him the sexiest—albeit most inexperienced—blow job he’d ever received, Wolfe managed to rid Rhys of his remaining clothes.
When Wolfe came to stand on Amy’s other side, she turned, keeping one hand on Rhys’s cock while she reached for Wolfe’s. Rhys grinned when Wolfe growled. Now the man knew how it felt. Her simple touch was enough to blow a man’s head clean off his body. Both of them.
“Damn, baby.” Wolfe set his hand on the top of her head when she leaned in and licked the tip of his cock. “I’ve dreamed about that mouth on me.”
Again, she seemed to need the encouraging words, because she became more confident, alternating between taking them each in her mouth. But the next time she focused on Rhys, Wolfe went to his knees, giving Rhys an evil grin.
They were going to double-team him.
As much as he wanted it, Rhys wasn’t sure he’d survive it.
Not that he wouldn’t give it a shot.
After all, he wasn’t a quitter.
19
__________
Amy and Rhys were naked.
In his bedroom.
Wolfe was pretty damn sure it wasn’t his birthday yet, but son of a bitch, he’d never in his life received anything as incredible as this gift.
Thinking about how Amy had come to work for them not even two weeks ago, then he’d taken her to the range for the first time only five days ago made his head spin. Things were moving fast. Okay, maybe not as fast as Wolfe’s previous encounters considering one-night stands were usually his M.O. Two weeks wasn’t a lengthy period of time to go from talking to fucking, but hey, Wolfe was the go-with-the-flow kind of guy.
He’d take it.
Watching Amy suck Rhys’s cock was the only thing keeping Wolfe from picking her up and setting her on his dick. He was desperate to feel the heat of her pussy wrapped around him, but he knew it would be in bad taste to rush it.
They’d get there.
Eventually.
Hopefully, sooner rather than later.
“Your turn,” Amy whispered, her hand wrapped around the base of Rhys’s cock.
Wolfe leaned in, taking Rhys’s dick all the way to his throat. He did it for two reasons. One, he fucking wanted to. And two, he wanted to gauge Amy’s reaction. This was what she was signing up for. Although Wolfe had every intention of giving her plenty of attention, he intended to do the same with Rhys.
Amy’s hand cupped the back of his head, her breath warm against Wolfe’s cheek as she guided him up and down on Rhys’s cock.
“Fuck…” Rhys groaned. “Y’all are gonna kill me.”
Wolfe pulled back, allowing Amy a turn. They continued the trade-off until Rhys put a stop to it, mumbling something about death and taxes and coming before he was ready. While Rhys tried to get himself under control, Wolfe turn
ed his focus on the sexy naked woman kneeling beside him. Wrapping one arm around her back, he pressed his lips to hers, then lifted her off the floor and deposited her on the bed, never breaking the kiss.
Her hands cupped both sides of his face, her breasts crushed to his chest, the heat between her thighs pressed against his leg. While he devoured her, Wolfe allowed her to ride his thigh. Her moans intensified and he was forced to break the kiss, anxious to watch as she made herself come.
“Wolfe…” Her eyes closed, her body undulating, hips grinding as his thigh provided friction against her clit.
“That’s it, darlin’. Rub your pussy on my leg.”
“I’m…” Her nails dug into his biceps.
“Come for me,” he demanded softly. “Then I’m gonna watch Rhys eat that sweet pussy till you’re screamin’ for him to let you come again.”
Amy cried out, her hips stilling, chest heaving. He would never tire of watching her come apart. She was so fucking hot, so sensitive, so uninhibited. He loved that she could trust them enough to let herself go like that.
Reluctantly, Wolfe rolled off her, sliding his hand beneath her knee and spreading her legs. Rhys was right there, leaning down, his tongue diving to that sweet spot between her thighs.
Her soft moan seemed to go on forever, her hand digging into the comforter as her back bowed slightly.
“I like that,” she whispered hoarsely. “So much.”
Her eyes were on Wolfe’s face.
“One of these days,” Wolfe said, inching closer to her, cupping her breast and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “you’re gonna call me.”
One dark eyebrow lifted and she moaned again.
“You and Rhys are gonna be somewhere—maybe his house or yours, perhaps in his truck, it won’t matter… Wherever you are, he’s gonna be eatin’ your pussy just like he is now. And you’re gonna tell me in explicit detail exactly what he’s doin’ to you.”
“Oh, yeah?” she rasped, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Definitely. And while you’re tellin’ me how his tongue is flickin’ your clit, how he’s makin’ you beg for him to fuck you, I’m gonna stroke my cock.”
“Rhys…” Amy’s back bowed, her hand reaching for Rhys’s hair. “That … oh, my God … feels so good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Amy took a deep shuddering breath, let it out. “Why wouldn’t you be with us?”
Hard to Hold Page 22
