Dash’s hands came up, fingers curling into the elastic of my panties and tugged them down. His lips pressed into the heated flesh where he had spanked.
Once my ruined panties were down around my ankles, he gave me another playful swat. “Get on the bed.”
Oh shit, when did Dash’s voice get so stern? I stared over at him in stunned silence for a minute as Jackson stepped to the side, giving me room, letting me decide what happened next.
“Be a good girl and lie down on the bed,” Dash said, his voice a touch softer. “Spread those legs for us and let us see that wet pussy of yours.”
Softer, but still dirty. I wanted this. I wanted them. I did as he said and went over to the bed.
Laid back.
Parted my legs.
Showed them my wet pussy.
And then they showed me the wild night I’d imagined.
3
DASH
* * *
The heat in my truck chugged away, but I still had to blow on my hands to keep them from freezing. I peered out the side window at Jackson’s parents’ picture-perfect house, with its smoking chimney and picket fence. White holiday lights dangled from the eaves and looked like icicles. A large wreath with a big red bow hung on the front door. Holly fell in swags along the front porch railing.
They always got into the holiday spirit. Normally, I’d have been happy to head in there and let Jackson’s mom shove food in front of me while I waited for him, but we had somewhere to be and it couldn’t wait. Their annual holiday party was about to start and there was no doubt I’d be sucked into whatever preparations I knew Jackson was currently wrangled into doing. It was hard—no, impossible—to say no to his mom. And that was why I was out here. I was his excuse to leave.
From the moment we’d woken yesterday morning in the Minneapolis hotel room to find Avery gone, I’d been grumpy. I should have spent the time since then with a crooked smile of a well-fucked guy, but no. That had lasted all of ten seconds when I’d rolled over and found her spot cold. I had no interest in cozying up to Jackson and without her between us, we’d felt like idiots.
We felt like idiots also because she’d slipped out. She’d gone stealth mode on us, even though we’d went at it with her for most of the night. We just couldn’t get enough. And neither could she, at least until dawn when we finally passed out. And when she wasn’t at the gate when our flight was ready to take off, we had to assume she’d gotten a different way home, or she was on a sultry beach in Mexico working on those sexy-as-fuck tan lines.
That didn’t mean we weren’t going to track her ass down and spank it.
After we
did that, we’d have to win her over. Shit, we’d known we were going to have to win her over the moment we laid eyes on her at the airport gate. She was clearly a little prickly about her independence. But we obviously didn’t realize how tough it might be to convince her to spend more time with us—in and out of bed—until we woke to find her gone. She’d slipped away like a fucking ninja, never giving us the chance to tell her just how much the wild night meant to us. We weren’t monks, but we didn’t sleep around either. To us, she wasn’t a one-night-stand.
My gut was telling me the more time and distance she got from us, the more our girl was going to downplay the connection we’d shared. She’d probably chalk it up to coincidence that we were all on the same cancelled flight and we had amazing chemistry—which there was plenty of—and leave it at that. But it was more than that. So much more.
I knew it. Jackson knew it, but we’d have to convince Avery of it.
But then, we were coming from very different backgrounds so we couldn’t expect her to have that same understanding. While she’d grown up in Bridgewater, her family hadn’t had a traditional Bridgewater marriage. She’d only had one father where Jackson and I each had two. Two dads and one mom apiece.
But Avery’s parents? Judging by the town gossip, they didn’t have much of a marriage, traditional or otherwise. We had no way of knowing how Avery felt about being in a committed relationship at all, let alone one with two men.
A bad song came on the radio and I changed stations, pushing the button with more effort than necessary.
Yeah, committed relationship. We wanted her and for more than for a wild night in Minneapolis. We wanted everything with her. Her job took her all over the world—I’d searched online and found a bunch of her well-written travel articles—but as long as she came home to us, we could make it work. At least, we were willing to try.
We’d hoped to fly back to Montana with her, take her out to breakfast. Go on dates while she was in town. From what she’d said, she hadn’t been too eager to be in her sister’s wedding, but perhaps having two guys to dance with her, to see that she had some fun, might make it better. To make her happy.
That’s all we wanted to do, make her fucking happy. It was slightly insane, yes, but Bridgewater men knew their brides pretty much immediately. While we’d known Avery most of our lives, we’d been too young before. Having a crush on her in high school was fine and all, but we’d had college and another four years of vet school to get through. Now? With our practice established, we had everything we wanted. Except her.
It’s just one night, right? Why not have a little fun while we’re stranded? she’d said.
By the way she’d fucked and fled, she was only interested in us making her happy temporarily, at least until the orgasms faded. We were flings for her. The longer Avery spent away from us, the more she’d be able to convince herself of that.
Fuck that.