The Wayward Sister (Wayward Sons Book 5) Page 10

  He looks down at me, eyes narrowed, cock hard, bobbing, and wet between his legs.

  “I’m sorry if I took that too far, it just seemed like a good idea at the time, but obviously it was stupid, like really stupid.”

  He pulls me from under the ledge, yanking me flush against his body.

  “You’re a very naughty girl.”

  I blink. “Something just came over me.”

  He bends and kisses me hard, like he’s been dying to do it. His beard is scratchy and his tongue soft. He releases me and says, “I’m not mad. That was the fucking hottest thing that has ever happened to me, but if you don’t finish what we started, or let me bend you over the fucking counter, I may actually combust.”

  His eyes are glazed with lust, and what I did to him wasn’t nice, but damn, if it wasn’t fun. I flick my eyes down to his buckle, then the button on his shorts, unfastening both. He stands, and they fall to the ground, pooling at his ankles. Without the slightest hesitation, I reach for him again, holding the hot, hard length in my hands. He groans, long, loud, and from deep inside.

  I bend, and take him in my mouth, giving him the happy ending he deserves.

  22

  Adrian

  “I need to talk to you about something,” Sierra says. It’s 2 a.m. and we’re sweaty and naked in my bed. She’d come to my room again, three days after the first time, half dressed and wet between her legs.

  It was getting harder and harder to stay quiet, in or outside the bedroom.

  “Sure,” I say, skimming my fingers down her side. Her skin is sensitive and pebbles easily. She’s staring at the ceiling.

  “It’s more like a confession.”

  “Okay.”

  She turns her head and faces me, those steel gray eyes peering into my soul. “I feel like there’s no easy way to say this, so I should just say it. Like, blurt it out.”

  “Sierra, I can take it—whatever it is.”

  It’s a lie. My heart pounds, wondering what she has to say. Is she kicking us out? Does she want to stop this? Have I gone too far?

  She swallows and tugs the sheet just over the swell of her perfect breasts.

  “I sucked Holden’s dick the other night. In the guard shack. It was my idea. I just…I don’t know, got a little wild.”

  I lay there as she speaks, processing the information. My brain tells me to be furious. Offended. Betrayed. My heart doesn’t take that path. “You like Holden?”

  She rolls over to face me fully, sheet falling enough for me to get a good look at her ample cleavage. “I do. I like you, too. I like all of you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Even Smith.”

  She grimaces. “That’s complicated.”

  I sigh, running my hand through my hair. Her relationship with Smith is actually more concerning than her sucking off Holden, because when he finds out she’s fucking both of us after we made a deal to stay away from her…

  “Are you upset?” she asks.

  “No, I’m not.”

  She frowns and sits up on her elbow. The half-moon of her brown nipple peeking out from under the sheet. “You’re not?”

  “Remember how you told me about your brother and his friends are all dating that one girl? How they all can give her something that individually they can’t?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Holden and Smith are my best friends. We’ve been through a lot together. So much. And the one thing that never seems to work is women, because they don’t like the fact we’re so close. They feel threatened by it. You’re not like that, and maybe this is why. Maybe we all know there’s room for more in our lives than one person.”

  She touches my bicep with a warm hand. “I like how close you all are. It reminds me of the boys at home.”

  I lean over and kiss her gently on the mouth, our tongues stroking together.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I say. She sighs and falls back against the pillow, the worried expression back on her face. “What?”

  “I’m going to have to tell Holden.”

  “He doesn’t know?” I’m a little surprised, but not fully. He would have said something if he knew Sierra and I are sleeping together.

  “Do you think he’ll be mad?”

  “Holden? Probably not. Just be honest with him. He’ll be honest in return.” If he can get past his insecurities, he’ll likely be as into it as I am. This girl, she’s worth a little sacrifice.

  “What about Smith?

  “That’s a whole other situation.”

  “Should we tell him?”

  I curl into her, wanting her warmth. “I think you need to work on your relationship with Smith first, then we can tell him about the rest of this.”

  She nods and presses her lips against mine.

  Baby steps.

  That’s how we’ll have to approach it.

  And hopefully, Smith won’t lose his shit and screw it up for all of us.

  23

  Holden

  If I hadn’t forgotten my jacket, I never would have seen Sierra walking out of Adrian’s room before daybreak. I pause at the end of the hallway, startled, and process what I’m witnessing. She looks up, eyes lighting up at first, before fading when she sees my expression.

  “Hey,” she says, sweeping her hair over her shoulder. It’s a wild nest, probably assisted by Adrian’s hands.

  “Hi,” I reply quietly, heart hammering in my chest. What does this mean? Is she fucking Adrian? I almost laugh out loud. Of course, she’s fucking Adrian. We all knew this was going to happen sooner than later. I just didn’t expect this…whatever this is.

  “I wanted to talk to you.” She looks down at my hoodie and shoes. “Do you have time?”

  “I was going to hike the trail behind the house, catch the sunrise.”

  “Can I come?”

  My insides scream no. Disconnecting from this girl now is the smart move, but that’s not what I do. I nod and tell her I’ll wait on the back deck. I can’t help but want to be around her. I like her. A lot.

  I slide open the back door and wait on the deck. It’s still dark out, the sun not quite ready to rise. It’s cool. The temperatures don’t rise until later in the day, making mornings the best time to get exercise.

  She meets me a few minutes later wearing leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Her hair is twisted in a messy knot on top of her head. I force myself not to stare at her lips—they’ve been taunting me since she wrapped them around my cock two days ago, rendering me helpless in the guard shack, pants around my ankles, cum spilling down her throat. She shoves her hands in her pockets, and we walk down the stairs toward the trail that leads right from her backyard and into the hills.

  We don’t get far before I ask, “Are you sleeping with Adrian?”

  She glances over, gray eyes clear. “Yes. Twice now.”

  I grimace. “I guess I want to know why you, you know, with me.”

  “Because, Holden, I like you, too. A lot.” She steps over a large rock. “I’m trying hard to not close myself off and be open to new things.” A smile tugs at those lips. “You and Adrian both just happen to be new things.”

  I wait for the bloom of jealousy, the upset or the anger. But the way she talks about it, so free, and openly, it makes it hard. “So, what? You want both of us?”

  We’re climbing a stretch that goes up a steep hill. Her butt is right in my line of vision, curved and perfect. I’d meant it in the guard shack. I wanted to bend her over the counter and fuck her silly. That desire hasn’t quelled. We reach a small plateau, and she pauses, waiting for me to catch up.

  “I want both of you,” she repeats. “I want your friendship, and companionship, and bodies, and everything else.”

  “So, you’re one of those 'wants her cake and to eat it too', type people.”

  She laughs, and the sound warms my heart. She also doesn’t deny it.

  I know her brother is in a relationship like this. One girl, four guys. Adr
ian? I know him well enough that he’s game. He likes Sierra, maybe more than any girl I’ve ever seen him around. I understand. I feel it, too.

  “How does this work?” I ask. “We swap beds every night and hope Smith doesn’t find out?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m willing to figure it out, if you are.” She reaches for my hand. “You don’t have to say yes. If you’re not into it, that’s fine, we’ll chalk what we had up to a crazy night. A story to tell when people ask, 'where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex.' I won’t be mad. Sad, but not angry.” Her fingers squeeze mine. “You’re important to me, Holden, and I want a relationship with you, however you’re willing to give it.”

  “And Adrian agrees?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “He does.”

  A sliver of golden light brightens her face, and she holds up her hand to block the glare of the rising sun. She shines like an angel, a divine gift. Only a fool says no to something—someone—like that.

  “I’m in,” I say, not sure if that’s the right wording, but this is new for me. New for them, too.

  She smiles and wraps her arms around me, pulling me in tight. That single move, along with the scent of her perfume and warmth of her body, let me know I’ve made the right decision.

  24

  Sierra

  “I like what you’ve done,” the realtor, Monica, says. “The fresh paint really brightens it up, and I love the color palette.”

  “Thanks,” I say, not sure how I feel about having her in the house. I forced myself to call her, knowing it needed to be done. The guys will be gone in a few weeks, and I’d set a deadline. I couldn’t drag this out forever. “Like I said on the phone, it’s a three-bedroom, two-bath. The roof has been repaired, and we’ve painted a few of the rooms. The AC still needs a tune-up, but I’m getting through most of the list the inspector left.”

  “Good, good,” she says absently, eyes focused on the house. She runs her hand down the wooden mantle that is mounted above the stone fireplace. She’s only a few years older than me, the daughter of a well-known real estate agent. Her hair is shiny and styled in fat curls that hang over her shoulders. She’s pretty, and compared to me in my paint-splattered overalls, I feel like a mess. “Can I see the kitchen?”

  “Of course.”

  She’d shown up without much notice, and I hurry ahead to toss the coffee cups in the sink. I’d lingered over breakfast with Holden, whose habit of getting up early to hike allows us a little private time. “Breakfast” consisted mostly of kissing and a little dry humping against the counter top. We were two seconds from going further when Smith walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for the coffee pot.

  “You have a husband or a partner?” Monica asks.

  “Roommates,” I reply. “Sort of. I’m letting a few park rangers that lost their house in the recent fire stay with me until they get a new assignment.”

  “Oh.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That’s very generous of you.”

  “Well, they earn their keep.” My cheeks warm at the thought of how two of them are repaying me right now. She raises an eyebrow. “You know, around the house. They’ve helped me with a lot of the clean out and repairs.”

  “That sounds like a nice arrangement.” She opens the pantry and scribbles a few sentences on her notepad. She heads out of the room. “Are the bedrooms back here?”

  “Yes,” I say, running to catch up to her, “but we haven’t had a chance to tackle much in there yet.”

  Monica continues making notes, asking me questions about the age of the appliances, if anything has a warranty. My head starts to spin with all the questions, not just because I have to come up with the answers but because this step is major. I’m really selling my family home.

  I’ve almost completely tuned her out when the front door opens, and heavy boots cross the threshold. Smith stands in the doorway, clutching his backpack over his shoulder. He’s dirty—dust and grime smudged down his cheeks and forearms. I’m not even sure how these guys get so filthy at work.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hi.”

  That’s about the extent of our conversations these days, both of us on edge around one another. The hostility between us is less, but neither of us know how to proceed. The fact I’m holding back the truth about my relationship with Holden and Adrian isn’t helping ease the tension.

  Monica shifts noisily behind me.

  “Oh, this is Monica Larson. She’s a realtor.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Monica says in an overly friendly voice. “You must be one of the displaced rangers staying with Sierra. The fire was so dreadful. I’m glad to see you got out safely.”

  “I did,” he says, eyes sweeping over her. I don’t blame him. Monica looks like a runway model next to me. I could possibly pass as a maintenance worker. What I don’t like is how seeing him looking at her like that makes me feel.

  “How long will you be staying here?” she asks.

  His eyes slide from her face to mine, then back again. “I think we’ll have housing again in a few weeks. Sierra has been very generous to let us stay until it’s available, but really, it’s time we stopped imposing.”

  “Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’m a big supporter of our service people. The national parks are what make this area so appealing for people to move here.” Monica stands a little straighter, making those curls hang closer to her breasts. A flare of irrational jealousy ripples through me.

  “I will,” he replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go take a shower.”

  “It was nice to meet you,” Monica purrs.

  Smith nods and walks past me, elbow bumping into me as he squeezes through the tight space.

  Monica watches him go, like a vulture eyeing a piece of carrion. Honestly, I don’t blame her. Smith is hot. I’m the idiot that has a strange, strained relationship with him. Plus, I have two other handsome rangers in my life and bed. I may have a serious case of wanting my cake and eating it, too.

  “Wow,” she says, gripping her notebook, “do the others look like that, too?”

  “Adrian is prettier. Holden sweeter.” I nonchalantly tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Oh, and they cook.”

  Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises. “Really?”

  “Yes.” I open my mouth, wanting to brag about their tongues and fingers, and of course, their cocks, but I don’t, because that’s crazy. Even though I think these men have made me lose my mind a little bit, I’m not that far gone.

  “I’m sure you’ll be sad to see them go.”

  “It’s a temporary situation. They have their lives, and I have mine, but it’s been nice having them around.”

  The bathroom door closes down the hall and I give Monica a tight smile. “If that’s all, I probably should get back to work.”

  “Of course.” She tears off a sheet of paper. “Overall, I think the house has great bones and I like what you’re doing aesthetically. I’ve made a few suggestions on the paper—things I think will open up the rooms and make it more appealing. I’ll check comps in the area and get back with you on a price tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget, you’ll need to get your brother’s signature for the paperwork.”

  “Right.” I take the paper from her, pushing aside the uncomfortable feeling in my chest again. Selling the house. It’s the end of an era. I have a lot to do, including talking to Dexter.

  She leaves, skirt swishing behind her while leaving a lingering hint of her perfume. I scan the list. One of the things she’d like me to do is move the big bookshelf by the fireplace. Her note says it would look better against a different wall. The shelf is empty, we’d already cleaned it out and boxed up the books and knickknacks.

  I cross the room and size up the bookshelf. It’s not a built-in, but it’s tall. I walk up to it and spread my arms. I can get my hands around each side. Moving it a few feet shouldn’t be a problem.

  Pos
itioning myself on one side, I wedge it out from the wall. It’s heavier than I expected, but if I take it a few inches at a time, it should be fine. I tug and twist, shifting it slowly, dragging it across the floor. Everything goes smoothly until I move to the front, grabbing it by both sides to turn it. I jerk it too hard over an uneven spot in the hardwood and it lurches forward. “No, no, no, no…” I mutter to myself, feeling it topple toward me. The scene feels like it’s in slow motion, yet I can’t manage to get out of the way. The shelf falls, slamming hard against the coffee table and trapping me between it and the side of an arm chair. I’m completely stuck—unhurt but stuck—and before I have the chance to figure out what to do, Smith comes rushing around the corner.

  Completely wet.

  Soap still trailing along his neck and down the hard curves of his chest.

  Oh, and he’s only wearing a towel that barely hangs over his defined hips.

  “What the—” he says, the panic slightly diminishing from his eyes. “How the hell—”

  He can’t complete a sentence, but he doesn’t hesitate, leaving wet footprints on the floor. It’s embarrassing how easily he lifts up the bookshelf.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, squatting next to me once it’s stabilized. The flap of his towel gapes and I look away, focusing on his face.

  Nope. That’s dangerous, too.

  “Yes. I thought I could move it and it fell.”

  “You scared the hell out of me. It sounded like the whole house fell over.”

  I scramble to my feet, uncomfortable with how close I am to his nearly naked body. He smells so good, so soapy and clean. Somehow the water glistening on his skin only accentuates his muscles. Of course, the simple act of getting off my feet is awkward, and I quickly realize I’m not okay. I wince, swearing under my breath.