Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
I didn’t get to respond because his dick was there in the next moment, pressing forward and making my lips part.
I’d been prepared for it to hurt, but not like this.
Not like this.
“Loren.”
“I know, baby.” He continued to work his crown inside of me. “We’ve got you.” There was a pause, and then, “Distract her.”
I assumed he was talking to Rich, but then Houston was pushing away from the altar where he’d been silent.
My gaze rose from watching his feet carry him forward to watching him undo his belt with pure intent in his green eyes. By the time Houston reached me, his cock was out. I lifted my top half and eagerly swallowed as much of Houston as I could, bobbing my head and losing myself in the taste of him.
Taking advantage, Loren chose that moment to push past that initial resistance with a groan that, with the help of Houston’s dick down my throat, drowned out my cry.
“Fuck, I don’t know what’s tighter,” Loren remarked, his voice strained as he held himself still, “your pussy or your ass.”
I had a few things to say about that.
They were all forgotten when he and Jericho began to move.
Slowly, carefully, the three of them worked together to replace the memories I had of this place and this town. And they didn’t stop until they made themselves clear.
They were my home now.
And I could be as wild as my illicit heart desired.
But first…I had to free it.
Houston came first, then Rich, and finally Loren. Before we could even catch our breath, calm our racing hearts, and let the sweat on our skin dry, I met each of their gazes and they were already watching mine.
“Lilac.”
Four Years Later
“That was a red light!”
“Oh, was it?” my husband teased.
Yes.
We’d gotten married.
The four of us—to each other.
I wore a dress, we had the ceremony, and we exchanged the rings—the whole nine. And I didn’t just wear their ring or they mine.
No.
Houston, Loren, and Rich also wore rings from each other—a symbolism of their devotion to each other and to me.
The law didn’t recognize it—or God, according to my parents—but our souls had accepted the bond, and that was all that mattered.
Loren kept his cool and his smile as he continued to steer the rented GranTurismo. He now wore his hair with the sides shaved, creating a sexy blond faux hawk. Paired with the large tattoo he’d gotten to cover the entire right side of his neck, the pretty boy now had a dose of ruggedness that made my thighs quiver whenever I stared too long.
Shaking my head at him, I gripped the “oh shit” handle above me. He’d just taken another turn on two wheels, making me close my eyes and pray. I hadn’t done the latter in a while, but it was my fault.
Houston and Rich warned me.
They told me to never get in the car with this fucking maniac. There was a reason they never let him drive. I felt like my stomach was in my throat by the time the car finally stopped, and Loren killed the engine. I snatched the keys from the ignition before climbing out of the black sports coupe. I heard his chuckle, but he didn’t object.
The security that trailed us in a separate car caught up, and moments later, we were escorted through the busy grounds.
People who should have been too preoccupied to notice our presence stopped and stared. Some took pictures from afar, but more than a few were brave enough to approach for an autograph or selfie.
Of course, we stopped, and we stayed until the crowd became too big for two hair-trigger guards to handle safely.
Another five minutes, and we finally reached the building and the room we sought. The door flew open after only one knock from Loren, revealing the excited face of my baby sister.
“You came!”
“Of course we did,” I told her as she stepped aside to let us in.
She talked our ears off while I looked around the small room. I felt emotions, too many to name, welling inside. Loren’s thumb swept back and forth over the back of my hand since he was still holding it as he talked with Rosalie.
I couldn’t bring myself to.
My heart was in my throat as I took in the twin bed with purple bedding and too many pillows, the small desk at the end already loaded with textbooks, the pictures of Braxen who was a few weeks shy of five pinned on the wall, and her trusty bible waiting on the nightstand.
She’d done it.
Rosalie had forged her own path.
And she did it while keeping her faith.
Something my parents had been convinced was mutually exclusive.
Loren was right about me not being loud enough, but I wouldn’t credit myself.
This was all her.
She wouldn’t have heard me if she hadn’t wanted to listen. I’d only spoken out loud what she’d hidden in her heart.