Desired (Two Marks 2)

“I know what you mean,” Nash said. His voice sounded closer. And then he was behind me, lightly cupping my breasts from behind as I rode Cord. “Can you wait for Cord, baby?” he murmured, his hot breath feathering across my ear.

“Yes,” I gasped, only partly sure what he meant.

“Good girl.” He kept his face close to mine. “Cord’s getting close.”

He was right. Cord was losing control. His face contorted with pleasure, a muscle jumping across his cheek as he opened his mouth. He pumped his hips up to meet mine, his butt leaving the chair to drive deeper into me as he yanked my hips over his lap.

On the third rough pump, he shouted and his eyes flashed gold.

“Now, Rachel,” Nash urged, pinching both my nipples at the same time.

My pussy clenched around Cord’s cock and a second, far more powerful orgasm ripped through me.

This one was incredible.

Life changing, actually.

If I’d only known what had been missing from my life, I would have broken up with Chester and had sex long ago.

No. That felt wrong.

Because I wouldn’t ever want to give up this first time. Right here. Right now. With these two perfect men.

When the last tremor passed, I went limp, flopping down against Cord’s chest. One of the men stroked my hair—Nash, maybe.

“Let’s get her into the shower,” Nash murmured, and somehow Cord stood from the chair with me still glued to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he followed Nash into the bathroom. He lifted me off his dick, and I hissed at the feel of emptiness. He rid himself of the condom as Nash stepped into the huge walk-in shower and turned on the water. Then he stripped bare. Once he’d tested the temperature, he stepped in, then Cord and I joined him.

The water fell over the three of us and I closed my eyes, sandwiched between two sexy cowboys.

This was a dream. It had to be. It was too weird not to be.

Any minute, I’d wake up and it would be over. I’d have to face my life and figure out what I wanted from it. It certainly couldn’t be two men. That didn’t happen.

But until that happened, I just wanted to soak it all in.

9

CORD

After we washed Rachel, I left Nash to help her dry off while I rustled up some food.

We’d been too impassioned to leave the barbecue and jump in the sack to grab any food, and I’d heard Rachel’s stomach growl in the shower. The urge to feed her, to take care of all her bodily needs, nearly made my wolf frantic.

I pulled out a loaf of bread and some turkey slices and went about making bacon, turkey, avocado sandwiches—my personal favorite. It was strange that my wolf felt settled enough to leave my unmarked mate, even for a moment, but I supposed that was because Nash was with her. It said something that my wolf trusted Nash, because after his display of aggression back at Gib’s house, I wasn’t entirely sure. And unlike other shifters in the pack who’d known their scent mate for years, I’d known him for a few hours.

A wolf’s biology didn’t lie though. If Nash was Rachel’s mate, he’d do everything in his power—including kill or die—to ensure her happiness, safety, and sexual satisfaction. I was concerned about the fact that he hadn’t been raised in West Springs and didn’t know our ways, but biology should take care of that, too. As my scent match, cooperation with me for Rachel’s happiness should be hard-wired into him.

We may have had a rocky start—hell, that was an understatement—but the fact that we settled our differences and came together to satisfy our mate was a testament to Nash’s Two Marks genes.

“Need any help?” Nash asked, appearing in the kitchen, holding our mate’s hand. He was in just his boxers and she was wearing my t-shirt. Her blonde hair was damp and she looked sexy as fuck. I shouldn’t care that she’d been a virgin, but my wolf howled knowing I’d been the first to get in her. Nash would have his turn soon. We were far from done.

”I wasn’t prepared for guests, but I made some sandwiches, and there is beer in the fridge.”

“I could run and get a bottle of wine, if you prefer?” Nash directed his question to Rachel.

“Nothing will be open in town,” I told him. “You’d have to drive almost to Granger.”

“Beer and sandwiches sounds great to me,” Rachel said. “I’m starving.”

My wolf growled in dissatisfaction and I practically lunged for plates so I could put a sandwich in front of her. “Have a seat,” I said as Nash opened the refrigerator and took out three bottles of craft beer he found on the door.

“You guys don’t all drink the West Springs whiskey?” Rachel asked. Our town was known for the distillery, which was owned by Gib’s family and provided jobs for most of the pack—anyone who wanted a job there, anyway.