Page 115 of Sweet Like Whiskey

Pulling Ash back against my chest, I settle in as Colton and Remi argue the logistics of gold-plated body parts. The fire crackles in front of us, smoke floating up into the air. Stars dotthe sky, and the smell of dried leaves mixes in with the burnt wood from the bonfire.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this calm. This settled. I’m still worried about Lawson, that’s true. But we’ll have his back should he need it. Ash was right about that.

The man himself shifts, turning his head to look up at me, fingertips brushing my jaw. “You good, Jack?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Yeah,” I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “Never been better.”

Chapter 27

Ash

“I honestly wasn’t sure if they were going to kick each other’s asses or kiss,” I tell Jackson, shucking off my boots once we’re inside the house. “Did you see that tension between Noah and your brother? Whew. I mean—”

Jackson’s arm slips around my middle, and I go still, turning my face to see him better.

“Hi there,” I say, sliding my hands over his. “What’cha doin’, partner?”

“You working on your country?” he asks, nose skimming my cheek.

My lips curve into a smile. “Reckon I have a little country in me. Or Iwillin—”

“I’m not little,” Jackson grumbles.

I bark a laugh, pushing his hands lower on my abdomen. “You have intentions, Jack?”

“Lots when it comes to you,” he says, beard and lips skimming my neck.

My head falls back onto his shoulder as his hand covers my cock. He kneads me through my jeans, and I let go of his arms so I can grab his ass, pulling him tighter against me.

“Want you, Jack.”

He hums, kissing down my neck. “Lemme take you to bed, Ash. I wanna kiss every inch of you. Slow and sweet.”

Fuck, that does sound good. But there’s something else I want, too.

“Or,” I say, spinning and grabbing Jackson’s waistband, fingers slipping beneath the denim, “we could test out that theory of yours about me making a good cowboy.”

Jackson doesn’t grin like I expect him to. Instead, he frowns almost thoughtfully. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“What? Why—” I scowl as it hits me. “My back is fine.”

“You’re still recovering,” he says.

I pop the button on his jeans, raising an eyebrow. “I’m feeling good today. I know my limits, Jack.”

“I just don’t want you hurting,” he says, voice choking off as I slip a hand inside his pants.

“And I appreciate that,” I tell him, stroking him to full hardness. “But I want to ride my partner’s cock. Are you going to tell me I can’t do that?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands tightening on the outsides of my arms. “Why can’t I ever say no to you, Ashley Alcott?”

“Because you’re a very smart man,” I answer. “Now sit.”

He looks affronted. “I’m not a dog.”

“Pleasesit,” I amend. “So I can suck your dick.”

Jackson backs his ass up, all but falling onto the couch. I chuckle, following him and dropping to my knees. I spread his legs wider, palms running up his thighs.

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