The Shepherd (The Game 6)

I drew a ragged breath and cupped his face in my hands, and I tasted him on my tongue. He walked backward and yanked me with him till I had him trapped against the counter. A hum of sheer pleasure left me as I felt him hard against me, and I gripped his hips and pushed harder.

He groaned under his breath.

The sound set off a shiver that ran down my spine.

After a while, it felt natural to slow things down and return to the comfort zone of holding each other, kissing each other’s jaws, necks, shoulders. Just reveling in this new territory that, oddly enough, didn’t feel so new. Because it was Sloan and me. Who knew, maybe we’d been on this course for a long time without realizing.

His breaths came out steady, and when we locked eyes, I didn’t see a trace of apprehension. Just affection, understanding, and maybe a pinch of mirth. I felt it too. A smirk tugged at my lips, and I kissed him chastely.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured.

I grinned quickly, elated. “Have you been waiting?”

“In a way, maybe.” He chuckled quietly and nuzzled my cheek. “Enough to drive me batshit with jealousy when I learned about Archie.”

Man, I needed that ego boost. “I see. How long have you been yearning desperately for me?”

He snorted and nipped at my jaw, hard enough to make me curse.

“Dick.” I rubbed the spot. “Go back to saying sweet things.”

He shook his head in amusement. “I always knew you’d be someone’s heartbreak, Greer. I just didn’t know you’d be mine. Till maybe…three or four years ago. Yeah, because Jo was born, and you got so pissy when I couldn’t meet up—when I couldn’t bring the kids out here. You didn’t act like a regular buddy.”

That was sobering. Heartwarming at the same time as it brought back memories of anxiousness and restlessness. A third kid meant less time. I’d felt him slipping through my fingers, and in retrospect, I reckoned I could get a better sense of why that had bothered me so much. Sloan wasn’t like my other buddies. I would never be satisfied meeting up for a beer once a month.

“The way you needed me in your life opened my eyes,” he admitted. “But my life was a mess. Still is. I couldn’t really do anything about what I felt. And you didn’t have a fuckin’ clue what your actions caused anyway.”

“That’s the general consensus if you ask Peyton and Gen too.” I nodded, and he laughed a little. “I’m figuring things out now, though. I’m understanding the whys—and you’re staying here. My reasons for kidnapping you just multiplied, so don’t think this changes anything.”

All while it changed everything.

He leaned back against the counter and flashed his palms in casual surrender. “I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how this is gonna work. You have a boyfriend sleeping in your bed—and while I know you well enough to assume you’ve squared things with him, this is still one hell of a puzzle.”

He was right.

Good thing I loved a challenge.

“We’ve tried things your way. Now it’s my turn.” I framed his face with my hands and rested our foreheads together. “Archie is about as monogamous as you and I are. We want something sacred—with this house as our home base, where family comes first. Where we decide together what works, especially with kids around us. And having you by my side, as my equal—can you imagine? You and me running a poly family together?”

He chuckled silently and shook his head. “Poly households—that’s just shit we dream about when we’ve had a few.”

“Maybe it’s fucking not, Sloan,” I replied imploringly. His gaze sharpened, and he lost the humor. “Maybe it’s more than a dream. You’re practical. I’m practical. Archie is…” A breath gusted out of me, and I straightened and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Archie’s teaching me how to live again. He’s a dreamer if I’ve ever met one, but he turns each one into a goal that he works for.” My hands fell to my sides again, and I stifled a yawn.

To push this fight at this hour was dumb. We had to get some rest.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he confessed. “It’s possible I’m a little jaded.”

A little?

We could both run for president of that club.

“Then getting to know Archie will be good for you too,” I said. I leaned in again and kissed him on the forehead, then his nose, then a firm kiss on his lips. “We need sleep. You’ll meet Archie tomorrow—and when I’m off to beat up brats tomorrow night, you can think about taking me out to dinner. I’m a traditional man. I want flowers.”

That thawed him out and earned me a soft grin. “I’ll get to see what Greer James Finlay is like on a date?”