Hard 5: Multiple Love

“No,” Colt repeats, smirking.

“I think she wants more,” Sawyer says.

“What do you want?” Cash whispers.

“More,” I say more softly this time.

“More.” Cash’s voice is low and husky. He’s had “more” when it was just the two of us. He knows what “more” can be like, but neither of us knows what “more” will be like with all of us.

But apparently I want to find out enough that I’m shouting about it. If I wasn’t already flushed from all the kissing, I’d be tomato-red with embarrassment.

“You want to go upstairs?” Cash asks.

Oh boy. “Yes.”

“Come on then.” There’s no time wasting now—no hanging around deciding who goes first or what’s going to happen. I’m led upstairs by the hand straight to Cash’s room. It smells like him, all woodsy and lemony. The bed is neatly made, and my first thought is that it probably won’t stay that way for long.

And then I giggle. I actually giggle, and Cash’s furrowed brow tells me he has no idea what’s going through my head. “You can stop at any time,” he says. “All you have to do is say the word. We’ll go at your pace and no faster.”

“I don’t know what my pace is,” I say, and he smiles slowly, pulling me toward him. “You’re like an ice cream sundae with whipped cream, toppings, sauces, and a cherry on top,” he says. “The whole package. Any pace is okay with us.”

When Cash kisses me, it’s with a smile still playing at his lips, and I drink in his unusual levity, gripping his shirt and allowing him to pull me close. When his brothers crowd around us, their hands touching my arms and my hands, a mouth kissing my neck, it feels right.

How can that be?

How can five men and one woman ever feel right?

I guess I don’t know much about how this should feel at all, and maybe that’s why my insides soften like melted butter, and I’m aching and hot between my legs.

Cash’s fingers find the buttons of my shirt and begin to unfasten them. I’m wearing a tank underneath, so I’m not nervous yet. It’s slid from my shoulders and tugged from my hands, and then my tank is lifted over my head.

Beneath is another layer. A simple nude bra that fastens in the front. There’s nothing sexy about it, but the audible reaction from the boys says otherwise.

“Can I take it off?” Cash asks.

I don’t wait for his fingers to find the clasp. I flick it open and look at each of the Bradfords as they see my breasts for the first time.

Maybe it’s that they haven’t been with a woman for a while. Maybe that’s the reason they stare at my body like it’s the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.

Standing in just my jeans with so many eyes on me, I should feel vulnerable, but I don’t. There’s a strange sensation of power bubbling inside me. Power to bring these men to their knees. Power to ask for what I want and get it without restriction or negotiation.

I don’t wait for Cash to ask if they can touch me. I take Colt’s hand and bring it to my chest, gazing down as my breast disappears within his huge, warm, rough palm. Sawyer slides his hand up my spine so slowly, the melting feeling intensifies. Cary kisses the back of my neck while Cash and Scott watch. Cash had already had his hands and mouth of my body, so he’s standing back to give his brothers time, but with Scott, it’s something else. His eyes are on mine, unflinching. He wants to know what I like and what I don’t. He wants to see me undone so he can tear me apart all over again.

Sawyer is the one whose hand is first to touch my belly, just above the fastening of my jeans.

“Undo them,” I say.

“Shit,” he mutters, but despite the huskiness in his voice, he manages it with dexterity.

My hips are wide, and my thighs are thick, so it takes him effort to slide them down, effort that’s worth it in the end. When I’m standing in just my plain panties and nothing else, I’m suddenly uncertain.

What will happen next? Will I like it? Will I be good at it? Will I be enough?

But Sawyer’s hands on my waist are gentle, and his kisses are slow and sweet. Cary’s touches on my back are reverent, and Colt’s smile against my neck feels sweet. Cash is there, reaching for my hand and squeezing it reassuringly, and I slip into the sensations that bubble up inside me and surround me like a warm blanket.

I think it’s Colt who hooks his fingers into my panties. He waits for me to object, but I don’t, and after a few seconds, he begins to pull them down.