Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
While we eat, we talk a little more about the company and her marketing studies, but once we’re done, our gazes hook and the air between us shifts. One second we’re talking about marketing trends, and the next, her eyes meet mine, steady and searching.
There’s something in that look that hits me square in the chest, like she’s trying to decide whether to run back to the office or stay where she is. I don’t move right away either, just watching her and giving her the space to change her mind.
But she doesn’t.
She stays completely still, her lips parting slightly, her breath catching. That’s all the permission I need. The tension that’s been thrumming between us since yesterday snaps, electricity crackling in the air just like it did in that moment before she started muttering about getting a glass of water.
I lean in, slow enough for her to stop me if she wants to, but she doesn’t. Her gaze lowers to my mouth and darts back up to my eyes, then our lips meet in a soft, uncertain kiss that deepens before either of us can think better of it.
She tastes faintly of lemonade, sweet and entirely too addictive. As I sweep my tongue across hers, she makes a quiet sound against my mouth that hits me low and deep, and for a moment, I forget everything else.
Suddenly, I’m not thinking about being cautious or taking it slow. I don’t care about her past or the secrets she isn’t telling. All that exists is the heat between us and the way her fingers curl into my shirt.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs breaks us apart. Chance and Dillon come up from downstairs, both freezing mid-stride when I glance over just in time to see Dillon’s eyebrows shoot up.
Chance smirks like he saw this coming a mile away. Roxie’s face flushes instantly, and then she draws back, wiping her palms on her jeans like she’s been caught doing something far worse than kissing.
I clear my throat, trying to defuse the tension in the room as I look back at her. “I guess I should probably mention that we have a unique lifestyle, the guys and I.”
Roxie blinks, her brow furrowing, but I see curiosity flickering behind her eyes instead of judgment. “Unique how?”
The open, cautiously intrigued expression on her face makes my pulse trip and my cock swell. “Let’s just say we don’t do things the traditional way.”
Her gaze drifts between the three of us, her lips still pink from the kiss. For a second, no one says anything else, but the air feels like it’s crackling with energy, like this is the moment before lightning strikes.
“Well,” she says finally, her voice soft as one corner of her mouth quirks up. “I’ve never really been one for tradition anyway.”
And just like that, I know I’m in trouble, and I’m not the only one. Dillon doesn’t waste a second. The man has never been shy about what he wants, and right now, it’s written all over his face. He strides right up to the couch and leans in beside me, catching Roxie’s gaze.
“You’re okay with this?” he asks quietly. “With all of us?”
She barely hesitates before she nods. “If I’m being honest, it’s not much of a surprise. I figured you were into doing things differently.”
Dillon smiles and brushes a strand of hair from her face before he bends and kisses her. It starts gentle and exploratory, but when she melts into him, his hand finds her jaw, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin.
I can’t look away.
Watching her respond to him, the way her breath hitches and her hand grips the edge of the couch cushion, hits me right in the gut. There’s no jealousy and no hesitation between us. This is what makes us work, the unspoken trust and the ease of knowing when to push and when to pause.
I glance at Chance. He stands just off to the side, arms crossed, eyes trained on them. When he catches me looking, he gives a small nod, then moves closer, looking every inch the careful protector as he crouches beside her.
He takes one of her hands and nudges Dillon with the other, a silent signal that makes our friend groan before he lifts his mouth from hers. Running a hand through his sandy hair, he swallows hard, then takes a step back.
“You tell us to stop and we stop.” Chance looks into her eyes as soon as she turns to him, her cheeks flushed but her gaze steady. “Got it?”
She looks between us again, her green eyes meeting each of ours in turn and lingering for a moment before she turns back to him. “Got it.”
Her voice is a little breathless, but she sounds confident. Sure.
Chance smiles and brushes his thumb across her cheek before leaning in to kiss her too. It isn’t wild or rushed, but careful and intentional.