Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
God, my heart is mush. Where are my defenses going? They are crumbling like weak bricks.
“And when I met you, I thought we had this dog bond going,” Chase picks up the dialogue. “I thought that was our thing. But really, our thing was understanding each other, accepting each other, wanting to help the other see that…you’re enough. On your own, Trina, you’re enough no matter what your family thinks. Just like you showed me that I’m enough even without hockey.”
That’s official. It’s melted. My heart is a puddle on the floor. I’m trembling and my bottom lip is quivering, and I’m so glad there are no customers here because I’m about to cry stupid tears of happiness.
“I love you,” Chase continues.
“And I love you,” Ryker says, then takes a beat. “And we want you to be…”
In unison, they say, “Ours.”
Gasping, I cover my mouth with my hand. This is too much. Too romantic. Too good to be true. Except, it is.
“I love you both too,” I blurt out, and then they’re both coming toward me and wrapping me up in their arms. Chase is on one side, Ryker on the other, and I can feel it—all of their love, all of their protection, all of their promises.
I have no idea how we’ll make this work. What I’ll tell my family. What they’ll say to the world. But in this moment, I don’t care. They’re here with me.
Where they belong.
When they let go, Chase retreats to root around in one of the bags, and Ryker in the other. Anticipation thrums through my cells.
A gift is coming my way, and I do like their gifts. Always have.
Chase goes first, handing me a fancy, festive, studded dog collar with a bow on it, and a shiny dog tag. I take it, curious why they’re giving me a dog collar, besides, well, the obvious. I have a dog.
But when I see the name and address on the tag, my breath catches. “Is this—”
Before I can finish, Ryker hands me a velvet pouch. I dip my fingers into it and take out a simple, silver key.
My heart gallops so fast. My throat clogs with emotion. “Are you—”
“Move in with us,” Chase says. “You and Nacho. We don’t want to go back to separate places. We want you with us.”
I look to Ryker, confused. “But you have your own place.”
“My place is with you,” he says, then shrugs helplessly. “I want us to share a home.”
Share.
That word has become my whole entire heart.
“What do you say to that?” Chase asks, so hopeful.
I’m hopeful too. “Yes. I say yes.”
And I let go of the hurt. I step into my future with my two guys.
43
THE BAND’S BACK TOGETHER AGAIN
Trina
As Chase kisses the back of my neck, I gasp.
The sound turns into a long, low moan. Because Ryker thrusts deeper into me at the same time. I’m in bed, on my side, face-to-face with Ryker, who’s fucking me, while Chase is spooning me, his strong body holding mine.
Pleasure twists through me as Ryker reaches for my thigh then hooks my leg over his hip, all while Chase slides a hand down my back, caressing me.
With their twin attention, I lose my mind and soul to bliss.
Minutes later, after I come down from that first high, I’m on my other side, looking into Chase’s eyes as he takes me. He rocks into me while Ryker lies behind me, buries his face in my hair and inhales me, nipping my neck and palming my ass.
It’s everything I never knew I wanted.
It’s a deluge of sensation. It’s them together with me, giving me so much more than I thought I had a right to ask for. Than I ever knew I wanted.
But now in bed, they’re taking turns making love to me, cherishing me, worshiping me.
Making me the star of the night.
Well, I suppose they’ve always treated me like a VIP.
After I shower, I pad out to the kitchen in a tank top and shorts I picked up during a quick stop at my apartment.
Now I’m here in my kitchen. That’s a strange thought, but it’s also a cozy one that warms me up. I feel at home as I head to the sink and fill a glass with water. As I drink, a metal tag jingles and my little dog trots into the kitchen, wagging his tail, looking up at me, as if he’s asking, “What’s up?”
“This is our new home,” I answer as I scoop him into my arms.
He sighs happily against my chest, snuggling up to my boobs—his happy place.
But we’re not alone for long. My guys join me after their respective showers. Ryker’s wearing low-slung heather-gray pants while Chase is dressed in a pair of basketball shorts.
“It’s the shirtless chefs,” I say, giddy at the sight of my men.