Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
It’s warm, tender, and a little shaky.
“Alright,” I murmur against her lips, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “You want me to keep goin’?”
Her eyes flutter closed. “Please.”
So, I settle her back into my lap, helping her find her balance. She clings lightly to my shoulders, trusting me to hold her. I lower my head, take her gently into my mouth again, and her whimper of relief cracks me open.
Her whole body responds this time, letting me take the weight from her. Her hips shift closer, pressing into my erection with quiet desperation. Her fingers slide back into my hair, clutching instead of stroking.
Every pull from my mouth eases something in her, every sound she makes unwinds me.
Her milk slows to a trickle, and she finally sags fully into me, melted and pliant. I kiss the soft skin beneath her nipple before lifting my head.
Her eyes are half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted. She looks peaceful, comfortable, and safe. Exactly the way she should.
I glance over at Wade. He’s watching her, not me. Watching the way she rests in my arms and the softness that settles into her.
And in that moment, the three of us fall into a quiet that feels like the beginning.
Wade stands slowly, pushing off his knee, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he steps closer. Joelle stiffens for half a heartbeat, but then his fingers touch her cheek, one knuckle brushing her flushed skin, and she exhales, sinking into my arms again.
“You did good,” Wade murmurs. “Both of you.”
Wade’s hand slides to the back of her head, his thumb stroking her hairline with a gentleness that would shock most people who think they know him. He meets my eyes, seeking agreement for what happens next. I nod.
“Come on,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Let’s take her upstairs.”
Joelle’s head lifts from my chest, eyes wide, searching.
“Hey,” I say softly, tipping her chin so she’s looking only at me. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
Wade nods, stepping closer until he’s a warm presence at her side. “We’re not askin’ for anything but to hold you,” he adds. “Make you feel good. And if you want more…”
A small, shaky sound slips from her throat, her fingers curling tighter in my shirt.
“I… want to,” she whispers.
And my pulse kicks hard.
Wade’s expression remains impassive, but his posture loosens as if the tension he’s carried, ever since our father got sick and he absorbed all the responsibility, finally leaves him.
I ease my hands under Joelle’s thighs and stand, lifting her effortlessly, and she clings to me, hooking her arms around my neck as her cheek brushes my jaw. Wade walks ahead of us, turning off the lamps, dimming the house and making it ready for the night.
When we reach the stairs, Joelle lifts her head, her eyes flicking between us.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asks, voice faint. “I wouldn’t ever want to be the reason there was bad blood between you.”
Wade turns, stepping onto the stair below ours, eye level and close enough that she lets out a tiny gasp. He cups her cheek, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he says, “I promise we’ll never fight over you.”
I feel her breath catch against my collarbone, her relief stark.
We move slowly up the stairs, her warm and trusting in my arms, Wade’s steady footsteps right behind us. At the top landing, he touches my arm, guiding us toward the bedroom across from the one she’s been using.
His room.
Inside, the only light comes from the moon through open curtains. The bed looks impossibly big and impossibly inviting.
I lower Joelle, her knees brushing mine, her fingers still tangled in the collar of my shirt like she’s afraid of what will happen when she lets go.
Wade stands behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, thumbs stroking a slow, steady reassurance. She leans back into his touch with a breath that trembles.
“You sure?” I ask again. She deserves room to decide—and men who don’t take advantage of her in any way. Not like that asshole who took her innocence at the fair, changing the trajectory of her life for good. I hate that asshole, but if she never met him, she wouldn’t be here, between us. Life’s funny like that. Every bad decision and heartbreaking moment can lead on to better things.
Her eyes lift to mine. “I want this,” she whispers. “I want… both of you.”
Wade’s breath leaves him in a quiet, rough exhale. I swear I feel my heart trip.
We move closer, one on each side, the air thick and warm around her. My fingers brush her cheek. Wade’s hands skim her shoulders. She reaches for us both, one hand gripping my wrist, the other sliding back to find Wade’s.
Then she lets out a soft sound of relief and desire, and the moment shifts. Wade leans in first, brushing his lips over her temple. I follow, kissing her jaw, slow and reverent. Her breath stutters, her hands fisting in our shirts, and Wade murmurs against her skin, “Let us take care of you, Joelle.”