“You,” Sam added. “Right then in that bathroom hallway when we first talked to you, your father, the inheritance, all of it had been irrelevant, our job, too. Then in the hotel room, all that mattered was making you come.”
The women sighed and Cord slapped Sam on the back, grinning.
I flushed hotly remembering just how they’d done that. And more than once.
Sarah put her hand on my arm. “We’ll still think they’re jerks if you want. But they’re Barlow men. They know what they want and go after it. Ask my guys. Once we figured stuff out, I was married to them two days later.”
I flicked my gaze to hers and she held up her left hand, showed me the rings Wilder and King had given her.
“I got pregnant my first time,” Penny said.
“The coffee table in the other room,” Cricket added. “Let’s just say Lee, Sutton, Archer and I defiled that thing. And sanitized it after.”
“Come on, sweetness,” Cord said gently to Kady. “I think Ashe and Sam can take it from here. Besides, Cecily’s going to wake up hungry any minute.”
“But—”
“Let them get to the good part,” he replied.
I kept my eyes on Ashe and Sam.
“The good part?” she asked, taking his hand and following him into the great room.
“Make up sex.”
7
SAM
* * *
“I need to get in you, get you to come all over my dick, then we’ll talk.”
We’d driven to my house back in town and I’d held her hand as we went inside, but that’s as far as we made it. I had her up against the door, unzipping the coat that kept me from all her soft curves.
“Sam, I—”
I stopped her words with a kiss. The first kiss since Boston, since that night. I’d been pissed and cranky ever since knowing we’d fucked up. While I’d tried to tell her the truth and she’d shut me down before we even got our clothes off that night, I was smart enough to know never to tell a woman it had been her fault because, well…I liked being alive. And it wasn’t all her fault. It wasn’t as if she’d expected us to tell her we were investigators, that we had been stalking her in the restaurant.
She probably thought we were car parts salesmen from Tulsa or even cattle ranchers from Montana. Whatever. Just not the truth. I should have insisted, held my dick off until we’d told her everything. But she’d been just too perfect. We’d wanted her too much. Like now. Now, I had her in my sights, had my hands on her, could breathe in her citrus scent, hear her ragged breathing. Even tasted her in the kiss. She was right there with me, right there with Ashe by our side.
“Sam, no.”
I stopped, pulled back immediately at that one word, but not too far. Her dark eyes slayed me. Heat and interest were there, but so was doubt.
“I want this,” she said. “Both of you, but we need to talk. This was our problem last time. I should have given you the chance to tell me everything that night. Or the next morning. I should have stayed. Listened, instead of running away.”
“And we shouldn’t have let you do the walk of shame,” Ashe added. “We’re sorry, sweetheart.”
“You want to talk?” I asked, pushing her coat off her shoulders. Ashe took it and hung it on the coat rack beside the door.
“I think it would be best,” she admitted, placing her palms flat against the door at her sides. “I mean, we’ve slept together and I don’t even know your last names. Where you went to college. Whose house this is.”
Glancing down her body, I could see she was eager. Not just for information, but for us. She looked so good in that simple shirt and jeans, completely different than the dress from the other night. I had to wonder—so did my dick—what lacy confection she wore beneath.
She was more than her lingerie, more than the soft feel of her skin, the heat of her pussy. One of the things that was so attractive about her was that she was smart. Brilliant, even, but we’d barely talked with her. While it made me proud of myself to have reduced her to saying single syllables like ‘yes’ and ‘harder’ and ‘more,’ I wanted words. Lots of them. I wanted to know about her, too. Her likes and dislikes. I wanted to hear her opinions on things, to debate and possibly even argue—although not about how Ashe and I had fucked up.
“All right,” I agreed, then grinned. “You ask a question and we’ll answer. In trade, we get a piece of clothing.”