Page 11 of Wrangled Up

Usually, he and Tucker sat around and watched some movies and drank more beer until they’d recovered from their session.

It wouldn’t take Christian long to work himself into a frenzy again. His shaft was still rock-hard, bouncing against his stomach. Tucker ran his fingers down his arousal to his balls, which he gently kneaded in the after-bliss.

Tucker gave a nod at Christian’s obvious state of need. He arched a long, golden brow. “A movie then we’ll go again?”

Again and again.“Fuck, yeah,” Christian grated out as Tucker switched on the TV.

* * * **

The diner was a dead zone tonight. Not a customer in the house. With a rodeo taking place nearby and it being a Thursday night, Claire hadn’t even seen the regular group of kids coming in after their football game at the high school. No Bob the fruit truck driver stopping for a ham steak after a long day of hopping from supermarket to small town grocery. Not even Mr. Lundy from the post office, hanging around for hours and drinking coffee to avoid going home to his lonely house.

Claire sighed and flattened her palms against the counter, pushing up and hitching her rear onto the laminate. The cook, with nothing to keep her occupied, was sitting on a chair with the back door propped open, smoking into the night.

Without anyone to talk to, Claire was left to think.

Last night at The Hellion, she’d barely gotten one song’s worth of dancing in before the blonde who Tucker had taken to bed came in and found her. Dropping dramatically to the empty chair at the table where Claire and herfriends were sitting, the woman said, “I’m Allie. We talked a few days ago in the diner. I wanted to apologize for that night. I was a little crazed.” She rolled her eyes and fluttered her hands as if to punctuate her point.

“It’s fine,” Claire said, trying not to notice the way Allie’s peachy cleavage spilled perfectly over her low-cut top or the way her hair was styled like the most up-to-date movie starlet’s.

Allie leaned across the table, causing it to tremble on uneven legs. Claire’s Long Island iced tea sloshed over the rim. “I wasn’t even drinking that night, but I felt high and drunk both. Gawd, any girl would be out of her head after an experience like that!”

“I don’t want to hear this. Go tell someone who gives a fuck.” Claire stood abruptly, completely knocking over her drink. She snagged up her purse and rushed to the ladies’ room, fighting her rising tears.

The ache in her heart was still a dull thud, but at any given moment, it could flare into a hot, angry pain. She circled a forefinger over the laminate, tracing the swirls.

Where was she going in life? Working a dead-end job with no man in her future. Shewas going to end up listening to everyone’s joys and never knowing her own.

The bell on the door tinkled. At the sound, she hopped off the counter and glanced up.

She stopped breathing.

Tucker.

And right behind him, Christian.

Claire backed up until the counter dug painfully into her spine.Please don’t make me wait on you.

The last thing she was capable of was acting nonchalant while serving eggs and home fries to the man she was in love with—especially when she wanted to roll out of his bed and pad off to his kitchen to prepare them herself.

But the look on Tucker’s handsome face told her that he was here for more than eggs. She’d seen that blazing look before, right before he trapped her hands behind her back and bent her over a hay bale.

Dark heat slithered downward to capture her folds. Her nipples bunched up hard.

“We’ve got some unfinished business, Claire.” When Tucker used this commanding tone, she’d follow him around like a pony,doing tricks until he rewarded her with the sweet sugar of his kisses.

He and Christian strode across the dining room, muscles rolling with purpose. She dragged in a harsh breath. “I don’t think—”

“I do.” Tucker planted his hands on her waist and leaned over her, dizzying her with his personal spice before he slammed his mouth over hers. She gasped around his lips, and he slid in his tongue. Plundering. Stealing any protestation.

Her body reacted with a violent shiver. Cream soaked her panties as she took note of his hardness—every inch of it.

Christian made a noise that brought Tucker’s head up. He stared into her eyes for a split second before plucking her off her feet and bearing her to the back of the diner, past the mish-mash of photographs plastering the walls of several generations of patrons. Smiling faces. Voyeuristic faces.

Tucker pressed her into the last booth and crowded in beside her. Christian hung back a little, leaning against a table a few feet off. She sent Christian a frantic look, but he gave her a slow, amused smile that twisted the knot tighter in her core.

“Wait, Tucker—”

He nuzzled her temple, spattered kisses down to her jaw then circled around to her earlobe, which he bit sharply.

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