Page 110 of Scent of Home

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to finally share your feelings with the rest of us,” Bray says and sits down beside me. He reaches up and tweaks Erin’s nipple, making her groan. “Hi, love.”

She pulls back and finds Locke pressed up against her.

“Did you all hear?” I ask in amusement.

“We did,” Locke says cheerfully. “So proud of you.”

I’m aware of Bray beside me. The feelings between us are easy now, warm, companionable. The tension between us has gone. That hyper-aware yearning is gone.

Erin pulls herself free and yelps when Locke lifts her over his shoulder and races off. Finn follows, chuckling.

Bray holds his hand out. I don’t even think about it, I just drop my hand in his.

Erin might be the same as me, but Bray is everything that is opposite, and I love that about him. I can’t believe this crush. All these years have finally resolved themselves to this outcome.

Never in a million years did I think that he would be mine.

“Bray, have I said I’m sorry for the horrible things I’ve said?”

“No, but I don’t need to hear the words, Shane.” Bray leans against me, so comfortable with touch.

I’m almost envious of him, but then he pulls and pushes at the same time, and I slip off the seat and land with a thump on the ground.

I’m about to rip into him when he lands on top of me, kissing me hard. He peppers kisses down the side of my face and sucks hard on my throat. I arch my back, leaning up into him.

His hips thrust into mine. Oh, fuck, he’s rock hard.

“Bray! We’re outside,” I protest weakly.

“I know.”

“It's daylight.”

“Your house is a million miles from anywhere,” Bray purrs.

My protests die as his fingers deftly flick open my jeans, and then his hot hand is slipping down and gripping my cock firmly. I arch into his grip, and he chuckles against my ear.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

“Give me a hand job on our porch in the middle of the day?”

“Hmm, while that appeals. I was thinking more…” Bray slides down my body, and before I can guess what he intends, he inhales my cock, drawing it into that hot, wet cavern that is his mouth.

I groan and dig my fingers into his hair, holding him there. I peel open my eyes and see the roof of the porch and the sun shining through the treetops. Is this real? This is crazy.

“Fuck, Brayson.”

“I’ve been dreaming about my revenge since you cornered me in my shop,” Bray growls and licks the underside of my cock before he bobs down again, his tongue massages, and the suction melts my brain, but then he starts to move, up and down, drawing me in and out. The wet sounds threaten to break me.

I groan and pant, struggling to contain myself.

“Bray!”

I’m so close! Too close. I don’t want this to end, not like this. Fine, if he wants to do this outside, we’ll do it. I pull him off me and stand us up, pushing him up against the rail. I yank off his top and throw it away.

“Put your damn hands on the rail, Brayson, and hold on tight.”

He does it obediently, his fingers white-knuckling the wood.

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