WYATT
I spent a long time thinking that because I didn’t want the type of casual sexual relationships I saw other people have around me, I was less of a sexual being than the average guy. That maybe I just didn’t care that much about sex.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. It isn’t that I want less than what others have. I actually want more.
I’m not jealous at the thought of Heath taking Emily beneath him. I’m turned on. I can share her with him—if he feels the same way. I will share her if she wants us both. After months of the most possessive thoughts, I surprise myself.
She’s mine. Yes.
But she might be his too.
Heath’s glittering gaze meets mine. I see a matching possessive claim there, as I have many times before. But I see something different this time. Now the pulse of desire doesn’t make me growl in competition with this man.
I hold his gaze. She’s ours.
Can he even fathom it? Is there something I can teach the older man?
His eyebrow arches. You’d share her?
Only with him. Because there’s something special about Heath too. We have a deep bond, a friendship that I’ve always labelled as a brotherhood connection. Except, I have three brothers, and I don’t want to watch any of them thrust home inside Emily.
He’s my mentor, my friend, and when it comes to how I feel about this woman, my confessor, too.
He knows how fucking horny I am for her. How I want to fuck her into the ground. My brain can’t handle all the dirty things I want to do to this girl. Heath, though—current situation excluded—is always in control. He’ll be able to teach her things I don’t even know.
“Go to him,” I murmur to her, and she breaks free of my possessive hold, crossing the room.
Heath catches her and lifts her up, urging her to put her legs around him as he kisses her.
I feel her mouth all over again as I watch. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but kissing her felt damn right. Her tongue slid against mine, and everything clicked into place.
I move farther into her childhood room. I’m not sure where to sit, because they’re in front of the little couch against one wall, and there are only two beds. One is clearly hers, where she was curled up in the blanket, and the other is covered in little scraps of clothes and piles of books.
Fuck it.
I sprawl out on her tiny twin bed.
That confidence lasts ten seconds, then I hop back up, neatly fix the blankets, and sit on the edge so as not to disturb too much.
I think it’s the last bit that Heath sees, because he’s laughing suddenly and whispering something to Emily.
“What?” She gasps. “Why not?”
“Because you’re special, and we have all weekend.” Heath kisses her temple and guides her onto the bed next to me. “Tell Wyatt what I just told you.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and curls one thigh over mine.
“What did the boss man tell you?” I rub my hand up and down her leg.
“He says we can’t have sex tonight.”
“Get the fuck out, Heath,” I bark.
“It’s not your room to order me out of, and we’ve just established that I’m wanted here.” He sounds so fucking smug.
I don’t think he knows how hard my dick is.
“And I only said Wyatt can’t fuck you tonight, little miss. Not that we can’t get you off. There’s a lot more to sex than fucking.”