Page 86 of Full Mountie

“I’m dating teenagers,” I mutter, but I spin around to squeeze Lachlan. “And it was a long week for you guys. I’m sorry.”

“I need to grab a shower,” he says. “But I bought a whack of stuff for dinner. Let me get that heating up, and then—”

“We can do that.” Hugh says. He grabs the bag from Lachlan. “What all did you get?”

“Marinated chicken tenders, a couple kinds of salads, a baguette, and chocolate cake for dessert.”

“Amazing.” Hugh unpacks. “How do I cook the chicken?”

Lachlan crosses to him, takes the bag out of his hands, and kisses him hard on the mouth. “Youdon’t.”

I take a big sip of wine. Good lord, it’s hot when they touch each other. “Kiss him again,” I urge. “Show him who’s boss.”

Lachlan laughs. “He’s the boss.” But he pulls Hugh in, exaggerating the kiss this time, slowing it down and making it super dirty for my benefit.

I. So. Appreciate. That. Effort.

A weak moan slips out of my mouth as I brace myself back against the counter. “We’ll join you in the shower.” I drain my glass and set it down firmly. “Actually, I’ll get it started.”

I peel off my top and drop it on the kitchen floor.

Then I turn and let them watch me walk away. There’s a scuffle, then the fridge door opens and closes quickly.

By the time I’ve got the shower going, they’re right behind me, stripping down to their birthday suits.

Excellent.

After our shower, which uses up all of Lachlan’s hot water and three condoms, we get dressed again—sort of. The guys put on jeans. I pull on one of Lachlan’s t-shirts, and underwear because I don’t want to distract him from the task of cooking me dinner.

Once it’s ready, he doesn’t set the table. Instead he stacks three plates next to the stove. “Let’s watch a game while we eat.”

I don’t bother to repeat my gripe about dating teenagers. They won’t care. And really, it’s his house. If he’s comfortable with us eating in his living room, so be it.

Except two shower orgasms have weakened my usually decent poker face, and Lachlan catches on to me as we settle on the couch. He gives me a grin. “You want us to go back to the kitchen with our plates, don’t you?”

“I…” I try to relax my spine. “No. It’s all good.”

Hugh guffaws. Like, out loud, no way does he believe me, hilarious laughter. “Are you uptight about food messes?”

Lachlan gives him an incredulous look. “How have you not noticed this about her?”

“I think I was distracted by how addictive her pussy is. Fuck off.”

I blush. “I’m not that uptight. Or I didn’t think I was. It’s just…the two of you are a lot of testosterone in a small space. And you both piled a lot of food on your plates. I’ll just watch the game and try not to think about food particles flying around, staining the couch and the—”

Lachlan sets his plate down and reaches for me, hauling me into his lap. “Did you by any chance have a bad day, too?”

I shake my head, but yeah, maybe. I dunno. “It’s been a long week.”

“You’re stressed.”

Hot, unexpected tears prick behind my eyelids and I nod. “Maybe.”

He rubs his thumb along my jaw and eases me in for a kiss. His lips are soft, coaxing, but beneath my bottom I feel him getting hard again. “What can I do to make that go away for a bit?”

The possibilities are endless. Sex by itself didn’t take the edge off, clearly. I slide a look over at Hugh, who waves his hand.Your call, he’s saying.

My mind starts whirring.

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