Page 44 of Single Mom's Bikers

“Once upon a time,” Chase begins, “there were three brothers who found a princess and her two magical daughters…”

I catch Evie’s sharp intake of breath. When I look down, her eyes shine with something more than candlelight.

The storm rages outside, but here, we’re creating our own kind of shelter. One made of glances and gentle touches, of brothers who’ve always known how to share, and a woman strong enough to hold all our hearts.

Thunder cracks again, but the girls don’t stir. They’re safe in their bubble of uncles and stories, while something electric builds between four adults who’ve been dancing around this moment for weeks.

“They’re asleep,” Zane whispers eventually.

Evie nods. “We should…”

“Yeah.” Chase carefully extracts himself. “We should.”

The walk downstairs brings us closer to something we’ve all been orbiting. When Evie turns at the bottom, candlelight catching her face, I know tonight will change everything.

And none of us want to stop it.

Candlelight throws shadows across walls, making familiar spaces mysterious. Evie moves to the window, watching rain lash against the glass. Her silhouette reminds me of the night we watched her from Chase’s window, but this time, we’re invited into her space.

“Storm’s getting worse,” she says softly.

None of us mention leaving. The excuse of checking on them during the blackout has served its purpose. Now, we’re here because we want to be, because this thing between us has been building since she first walked into our gallery.

Chase settles on her couch like he belongs there. Zane perches on the armrest, casual but alert. I remain standing, watching her watch the storm.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Chase tells her.

“Just wondering.” She turns, candlelight catching her face. “How long we’ve been dancing around this.”

“Four months max,” Zane says with a smile.

Her laugh is soft and breathy. “I can’t argue that.”

The tension shifts as she moves away from the window. Her bare feet make no sound on hardwood floors as she approaches. When she reaches me first, it feels right. I’m the oldest, the leader, the one who should take this step.

Her kiss tastes like certainty. My hands find her waist as she presses closer. I cup her round ass, and the small sound she makes goes straight through me.

“Beautiful,” Chase murmurs from behind her.

She breaks our kiss to look at him, then at Zane. In the candlelight, her eyes hold no hesitation.

Her thin sleep shirt does little to hide her curves, and when she reaches for Chase, her nipples are already hard beneath the fabric. I watch as my brother claims her mouth, his large hands sliding under cotton to cup her breasts. She arches into his touch, making those little sounds that drive us crazy.

Zane moves behind her, his cock already hard as he presses against her ass. She’s wearing those tiny sleep shorts, making it easy for him to slide his hand between her thighs.

“Already so wet for us,” he murmurs against her neck, making her moan into Chase’s mouth.

I can’t resist anymore. Moving closer, I help Chase lift her shirt over her head. Her breasts bounce free, perfect and begging for attention. When Chase’s mouth closes around one nipple while I take the other, she clutches our heads, holding us against her.

She hisses as Zane’s fingers find her clit through damp cotton.

Chase drops to his knees, dragging those tiny shorts down her legs. She’s bare underneath, glistening in the candlelight. The sound he makes before burying his face between her thighs is almost animalistic.

She’d collapse if not for Zane holding her up. I swallow her cries with my mouth while Chase works her with his tongue. When she starts shaking, close to release, he pulls back.

“Not yet,” he says, voice rough with need. “Want to taste you upstairs. On the bed. Where we can all have you properly.”

Getting upstairs takes longer than it should. We keep stopping to touch and taste. She manages to take Zane’s shirt off, running her hands over his tattooed chest.

---