Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
His to take care of, to think about, to center his life around.
It wasn’t so bad.
“I don’t think I drew any…” Bay stopped and flushed slightly. “Is this a random pop culture reference that I don’t get?”
Shane chuckled, and she felt his cock against the small of her back. “It’s only one of the most popular films of all time. It’s okay, baby. I’ll watch all the things with you. She’s telling you she wants to be your muse. She liked the drawings.”
“I liked how he saw me,” she admitted.
“Then lay back against him.” Bay changed positions, his pencil in hand. “I wish I had charcoal, but this will do. Give me a minute. Shane, wrap your arm under her breasts.”
She laid back and let Bay do his work.
Chapter Nine
Monday
Brooke liked living at the G. The first couple of days had been peaceful. She’d met with Cleo and gone over the designs for the play—which were terrible. She wasn’t even sure what the other designer had been thinking, but she was glad they hadn’t gotten to the actual sewing stage. Cleo was kind of the luckiest director in the history of time. If Brooke hadn’t come along, Cleo would be forced to pull from the existing wardrobe, and that would have been a disaster. Brooke understood the concept of modernizing Three Sisters, but did the other designer even read the play? She made Olga look like she was from an 80’s soap opera, while Irina was just… She knew she shouldn’t use the word slutty, but putting her in micro minis didn’t modernize the character. It merely let her know the other chick didn’t understand her.
Three Sisters. It was about being stuck and having no way out. She understood that all too well.
The problem was she was starting to feel…not stuck. Comfortable. A bit excited some days.
“Hey, you need some coffee, baby?” Shane walked into the sewing room he’d put together for her with a mug in his hand. “You’re up early.”
Oh, he said the room was a gift from him and Bay, but she’d figured them out over the course of a couple of days, and Shane was the one who took care of the everyday things. Shane kept things moving, and it was fucking delightful.
A few days of living with them and she was already addicted to having them around. It went way beyond the way they fucked her—which was often and with great enthusiasm. They’d even sort of tried the playroom, though they hadn’t found their groove there yet.
She smiled at him and accepted the coffee and the kiss he offered her. “I had an idea for the first act, but I want to see how this lace is going to work on the fabric I have. It’s weird to be working with a budget.”
“Did you not have one at the New York job? What’s the name…” Shane began.
She turned and frowned his way. “Seriously? We’re pretending to not know?”
Bay chuckled from the hallway. He was so big and broad he made her sigh. He was dressed for work in well-worn jeans and a Western shirt, his cowboy hat already on his head. He was such a contradiction. So like the cowboys she’d known all her life, but with a thirst for culture and art. “It’s the House of Bianchi. Brother, we know which pieces she designed for the spring line.”
Shane shrugged like he’d tried. “I was hoping she’d forget the stalker stuff.”
She’d actually thought about this and talked about it with Lucy and River when they met for drinks at Hell on Wheels. Sawyer naturally listened in and came down firmly on the “those boys are creepy and she should move in with cats” side, but then Sawyer hated mostly everyone. Lucy and River pointed out that she didn’t have to view it as creepy behavior. More like they were fans of hers and wanted to follow her and maybe fall into her bed and give her multiple orgasms and save her from her brothers and bring her coffee and make sure she had a place in their home to work in.
She stood and gave Shane a real kiss. “I’m choosing to look at it as pre-relationship research. After all, I wouldn’t have this lovely room if you didn’t know an awful lot about me. And to answer your question, not really. I mean I didn’t ask for Mulberry silk or baby cashmere, but for the most part anything I wanted was either in-house or we had an account at several fabric stores.”
“But sometimes it’s fun to see what you can do with what you have,” Bay said. “I think my favorite piece of work I’ve ever done is a sculpture of Shane riding a bronc that I made out of scrap metal and aluminum cans.”
She’d seen it. How had she not realized it was Shane on that powerful horse? “It’s at Stef’s, right? He keeps it in his foyer. I hope you know how much it means to him to keep it there.”